


Tainted Hero

by L_Graves



Series: Shielded in Flame [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avvar, Avvar Culture and Customs, Blood Mages, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Ferelden, Frostback Mountains, Grey Wardens, Mabari, Origin Story, Original Character(s), Single Protagonist AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-03-06 04:09:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13403166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_Graves/pseuds/L_Graves
Summary: Avvarian Shaman, Brina Ulriksdotten O Black Wolf Hold recently joined the Grey Warden ranks after the destruction of her hold by darkspawn. When events don't play out as anticipated, it falls to Brina and her companions to unite what remains of Ferelden and defeat the Archdemon before the Blight consumes them all.Avvar Origin AUSingle Protagonist AU





	1. Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brina Ulriksdotten prepares for her final trial that will promote her from Apprentice to Shaman.
> 
> Note: Firebloom is also known as Prophet's Laurel. Given the Avvar do not recognize Andraste or the Maker, using the name “Prophet's Laurel” would be out-of-character for the Avvar. Likewise, Elfroot is known as Nugsear by this particular clan. As a local plant and with lack of interaction with elves, nugs are more well known to the area.
> 
> Update July 10, 2018: What was once two chapters have become five. I will mark these chapters accordingly. I encourage anyone who has read the two chapters before this date to reread the said updated chapters. The same course of events happens, but I've added descriptions, clarifications, and dialogue. Thank you for your patience and understanding.
> 
> Edit: July 23, 2018 - I discovered on the wikia the Avvar call darkspawn "nightgangers." Added instances of this word.

Brina Ulriksdotten opened her eyes to the sound of a crackling fire. Her father, Ulrik Brynjolfsen, sat on the other side of the flames cross-legged and poked at the logs. His head was bald, and his long grey beard was full of braids. Tribal tattoos covered his arms and carried up onto his scalp. Most of the symbols held meanings denoting his status and wealth in the clan.

“Da?”

He didn't lift his eyes from the fire. “Oh, Cub. I didn't know you were awake.” Ulrik's brow furrowed. Worry lines stretched across his forehead, and the crinkles around his eyes grew deeper with his thoughts.

Brina sat up on her elbow, keeping the warm furs around her. “I thought you were preparing for a hunt.”

“Scouts have not yet returned. I sent out a second party to search for them.”

Brina's stomach knotted. _Something isn't right._ “They haven't returned?”

Ulrik finally looked up at her, his eyes sad. “Last I knew, the trail ended somewhere in the Korcari Wilds.”

“That is quite a way from here. Easily two days trek.”

“Aye.” He dropped the stick he held, looking back into the fire.

“Was there nothing closer?”

“We should know more by this eve. The scouts are to return by sundown, regardless of what they find.” Ulrik stood and went to the table where he unrolled a map. He leaned heavily against the counter with his head down.

“And if they don't?”

Ulrik remained silent.

 _We will have to move, again._ “We've only been in this place for ten moons.” Brina sat all the way up in her cot.

“If Thane Snow-Eye says, 'Move,' then we move.” Ulrik turned to look at her. “Cub, we can't stay if it isn't safe.”

Brina sighed. “I know.”

Silence stretched on. An unspoken word hung in the air, _nightgangers_. The attacks had grown more frequent the past few months. _Are they the reason our scouts are missing?_

Ulrik pulled her up from her cot and held her face in his hands. “You are so much like your Ma. You have her eyes; blue-green, like the leaves of the Firebloom. The rest of her is your personality. I'm afraid the rest of your looks you got from me.” Ulrik's smile carried up into his honey-brown eyes.

“Aye, I'm as tall as you,” Brina laughed.

“I certainly never expected that. I've been the tallest in the clan for so long; I'd forgotten what it was like to not look over the top of one's head. And no one can miss your mop of brown curly hair.”

“Ma's golden hair always stood out, to me.”

Ulrik embraced her. “You'll do just fine today.”

A memory of her mother flashed in Brina's mind. The way her Ma's golden hair shone in the sunlight. The way her face lit up when she smiled. Her warm embrace. Brina's face stung.

She took a deep breath and smiled at her father before he headed through the door. Brina took it as an opportunity to ready herself for the day in privacy.

***

Outside the hut, villagers were already preparing for the day despite the darkened sky. Vendors arranged their stalls. Brina stopped in front of one such booth. A small woman unstacked baskets from her arms into various trays. She was bundled up in furs to fight the crisp morning air, but her hood had started to slip back revealing mouse-brown hair with visible grey streaks.

“Good morning, Hulda.” Brina's breath fogged up around her face.

“Brina! So nice to see you. I knew you'd be by early today. How's the arm?”

Brina pulled up the sleeve on her left arm. From the tips of her fingers up to her shoulder, the skin was wrinkled and lumpy. _Still a little pink._ “Burnt, but useful. Aside from the appearance, it's almost like it was before, thanks to you.”

“I'm only as good as the Lady allows.” Hulda smiled and squeezed Brina's healthy shoulder.

“Of course.” Brina quickly pulled her sleeve down before others could see.

“I have no doubt your spirit companion also helped. I heard you are preparing for your final trial: releasing the spirit back into the Land of Dreams.”

“Aye. I hope the gods grant me strength. I'm to see the Augur at first light for final instruction and guidance.”

“We are hoping for your success. I've never had to separate from a spirit before, but I'm sure you can do what needs to be done. Augur taught you well. Do you need anything in particular today? I've got a new shipment from the stone merchants.” Hulda gestured to a large wooden box next to the stall. It was full of various plants separated into smaller containers.

“I need the usual. And some extra Felandaris. Augur's preparing for communion with the spirits today.”

“Here you are, Apprentice. May you walk in light.”

Brina handed Hulda several full water skins full of mead. “And be unafraid of the darkness.”

“My thanks. Augur's Mead always has a fire to it. My mate may be gone, but this was always his favorite.” Hulda opened one and deeply breathed in the scent. “Snoufleurs always make the best water skins.”

“Aye. These are the ones my Da and I hunted at the last gathering.”

“You honor me.”

Brina went on her way, purchasing dried food and extra water pouches. _I've heard this trial can last anywhere from hours to days, if successful._ Some of the nerves in her arm twitched. Brina shook her arm and stretched her burned fingers.

The sky was turning pink in the distance, and people crowded the road for their morning shopping. Soon the air buzzed with chatter and gossip. Nearby, Ragnar Talltale and his sister Una gossiped. They were of an age with Brina. Ragnar did odd jobs for the Thane and was known for telling outlandish stories as if they were absolute truth. Suspiciously, his stories lacked witnesses aside from himself. His chin-length auburn hair and collar-bone length goatee tended to stick out at all angles. He was rather tall, though Brina could easily see over his head, and very scrawny. Una Svensdotten was very much his opposite. She was small, and a bit rounder, barely reaching the middle of Ragnar's chest. She kept her yellow hair tied back in a single braid.

As usual, Ragnar was quite animated while telling one of his stories, and Una was doing everything in her power not to shut him up forcibly.

“Did you hear?” Ragnar started in. “Some _Lowlander_ is being granted an audience with our Thane.”

“A Lowlander?” Una made a face and chuckled.

“Called himself a Grey Warden.”

“I've heard of them. Harbingers of death and destruction, the Grey Wardens are. No good can come of this.” Una began inspecting some fruit.

“Respected warriors, they are. The Grey Warden said they're recruiting.”

“Respected warriors? Pah! Clearly, they never met the Avvar.”

Ragnar puffed out his chest. “Of course not. We could show them what true warriors look like.”

“What do they want? Just warriors? They expect loyalty, just like that?”

Ragnar lowered his voice to a whisper, “They are looking for one.”

“One? Just one?”

“Not just any single one. The Apprentice.”

Una dropped the fruit in her hand. “The Augur's Apprentice? Brina?”

Brina pretended not to hear them.

Ragnar pulled Una away, but he was terrible at whispering. “ _Shh._ Not so loud.”

“Why her?”

“I don't know. But I heard the Thane is going to host trials in the Warden's honor. To display the best warriors.”

“You said we could show them what true warriors look like. We should compete.” Una's eye glinted with anticipation.

“You said they were 'harbingers of death and destruction.'”

“Aye, but-”

Ragnar had a broad grin on his face. He put his hands on his hips. “So you _do_ respect them! Don't deny it. There's no shame in that. You know, Grey Wardens only come out if there's a Blight coming.”

“Lowlander problems. Stone-folk fight nightgangers all the time. The nightgangers never come this high up. Too cold. Besides, a few on the surface doesn't mean a Blight. I heard nightgangers sometimes raid the topside.”

“But what if it is? The Warden seems convinced. I think Thane Snow-Eye is too.”

The knots in Brina's stomach grew. She couldn't shake the uneasiness she felt. _I should get on to Augur's hut. It's nearly first light._

Further down the road just outside the market stood a group of hunters talking intently. Ulrik stood in the front as a group of scouts ran toward them.

“Master Hunter! Master Hunter!” The leader of the scouts, Bjorn, stopped in front of Ulrik. He was panting. _Did he run the whole way? He's terrified of something._

“You return? So soon?” Ulrik waited patiently.

Bjorn spoke between pants. “Aye. Something strange is happening.”

“What is it?”

“The bears. They're gone. All of them.”

“The bears are gone? It's near winter. Surely, that's not a surprise.”

“The halla are gone too.” 

“And the fennec,” a second scout, Dagmar, interrupted.

A third scout, Stoic, also spoke, “The rams, too.”

“Even checked the wyvern nest. All gone,” Bjorn said.

“Birds are leaving as well.” Stoic scuffed his boot.

Brina went to her father's side. “Where- Where would they go?” She felt sick, worried she already knew the answer.

Dagmar pointed, “I saw a flock going north this morning.”

“North? That's not so unusual.” Ulrik looked hard at the scout. “You must be seeing things, boy.”

“I know what I saw. What about the rest?”

Brina glanced at Ulrik. “We should speak with the Augur.”

Ulrik sighed. “Agreed.”

They began to depart toward the Augur's hut when Bjorn spoke again. “There's something else. There's a cave. A tunnel.”

Ulrik shrugged. “There are caves everywhere.”

“No, a new cave. It wasn't there before.”

Ulrik crossed his arms. “You want to send a party in to investigate.”

“Aye.”

Dagmar tightened his grip on the dagger at his hip. “We need to speak to Thane Snow-Eye about this. You know it might be-”

Ulrik held up his hand and shook his head. “He's speaking with the Grey Warden. He'll see no one at this time. We'll bring it to his attention soon, but let's find out if there's a real problem first.”

Ulrik's second, Svena, placed a hand on Ulrik's shoulder. “Master Hunter, the Warden left already.”

“Where did he go?”

“I'm not sure. The Warden didn't leave the hold, but he's no longer with the Thane.”

“Da? I will speak with the Augur. Maybe he will have insight.” Brina pushed past the hunters and turned to a rocky mountain path. The weather had carved the rock into a natural staircase that led to a small flat area, just large enough to fit the Augur's crude hut.

Brina pushed open the door as the sun broke over the horizon. Inside, Brina's head brushed the ceiling. The air was thick from veilfire smoke in the hearth. Various herbs and plants hung from the ceiling and walls. Despite the green flame raging, the atmosphere was chilly and moist and smelt heavily of dirt. 

The Augur sat on the other side of the fire. Whether he was asleep or meditating, Brina wasn't sure. He was old. Ancient, according to some. He claimed to have seen nearly fifteen hundred moons, though Brina had her doubts. She figured he'd seen close to one thousand. “Augur?”

He opened his eyes to gaze at her. “Ah, Brina.” His voice had a slight rasp and was breathy.

Augur grunted as he stood. His back slouched from years of bending over a fire and his sparse hair fell to his shoulders. He'd been tall in his youth but was now one of the shortest in the clan. He wore thick wolf furs that covered his frail body. The head of the wolf he wore as a hood. The gnarled and twisted staff in his hand had the skull of a red wolf on top with chunks of lyrium crystals that glowed blue in the eye sockets. The staff had several vines and small roots at the end that wrapped around the skull, holding it in place. Augur gestured a thin, bony hand to the man who stood next to him. “Brina, I'd like you to meet Duncan, Warden-Commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens.”

Brina blinked at the stark contrast between the two men. The Grey Warden was average height for a lowlander, coming up to Brina's nose. The green flames reflected off Duncan's silver armor and mail, and the silvery strands in his thick black mane and beard. The griffin on his breastplate seemed to move on its own in the dancing light. His face crinkled around his mouth and eyes when he smiled.

Brina nodded her head. “Brina Ulriksdotten, Augur's apprentice.”

He studied her for a long moment. “So. You're Brina. Very nice to meet you. I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with proper Avvar greetings. This is my first time visiting one of your esteemed holds. We've had Avvar Wardens in the past, but by the time I met them, they had fully committed to being Wardens.”

 _Lowlanders have such strange accents._ “Past Avvar Wardens?”

“Yes. There was one I knew, Kell ap Morgan. He was once a Jarl. Wonderful tracker. He could sense different types of darkspawn.”

"Darkspawn?"

"Yes, I forgot. You call them _nightgangers_ , I believe."

“I'm afraid I'm not much of a tracker. That's what hunters are for, like my Da.” Brina searched his face, trying to find any hint of his intentions. _What does he want of me?_

“No, but I've been told you've learned much from your spirit companion. And that you're quite adept at manipulating the elements.”

“Aye. I've learned all my companion can teach me. I'm to send it back to the Land of Dreams.”

“'Land of Dreams'? The Fade?”

“Aye, I believe that's what the lowlanders call it.” Brina glanced at the Augur who merely nodded.

The Augur shifted the staff in his hands. “Brina must separate from the spirit before she can become a true shaman. If she cannot, she will face exile.”

“In that case, I wish you well on your trial, Brina Ulriksdotten.” Duncan brushed past her toward the door.

“Grey Warden – Duncan, was it? What happened to him? Kell ap Morgan?”

Duncan stopped in the doorway, then turned to look at her. “He and his steadfast war hound sacrificed themselves. I admit, I regretted leaving them. We went back to find them but only found his bow. Darkspawn are known for . . . Carrying away the dead. I also regret we could not give them a proper funeral befitting the gallant warrior he was.”

“So, you _are_ here for recruits.” _Maybe Ragnar was telling the truth, for once._

Duncan glanced at the Augur. “I'm seeking warriors and mages. Until recently, Grey Wardens were exiled from Ferelden. A few of us have returned home and seek recruits in preparation. The King of Ferelden calls all to his aid, northeast of here in a place called Ostagar. Do you know of it?”

“Aye, I know it. Why are you telling me?”

“I fear a Blight is coming.”

Brina looked back at the Augur. “I've heard whispers . . . A new cave opened at the base of the mountain. And the animals are disappearing.” Brina could feel fear building in the pit of her stomach. She struggled to push it down.

“Yes, I saw it on the way here. Has anything else strange happened?”

“Some of our scouts disappeared between here and the Korcari Wilds.”

“Yes, your Thane told me. I suspect it's the darkspawn at work. A horde is gathering. But I'm sure your trial is challenging and will require all your focus. What is the phrase? May you walk in light?”

“. . . And be unafraid of the darkness.” _He may not know the greetings, but he knows our farewells._

Duncan bowed and took his leave.

“Brina? What are your thoughts?”

“He seeks me to be a Grey Warden. Is that true?”

“Aye, it's true. But you are not yet ready. Your Spirit of Knowledge must go back first. Should you succeed today, we'll speak more of this matter once you've rested. You've brought the Felandaris. Rashvine Nettle. Amrita Vein. Fireblooms. Witherstalk. Dragonthorn. Black Lotus. Nugsear. Excellent. You'll make these into pastes. Mark yourself before you begin the burning. You'll need a fresh sacrifice.”

“Spirit resistance . . . and aids for my energy and magic.”

“Aye. The Fireblooms, Amrita Vein, and Felandaris will help keep your physical energy awake. Amrita Vein, Felandaris, Witherstalk, and Dragonthorn for Spirit Resistance. Rashvine Nettle, Amrita Vein, and Black Lotus for lyrium aid. And here is your vial of lyrium. Nugsear for the smoke. Do you understand what must be done?”

“Aye.”

“Go to a secluded place. The hold knows you are not to be disturbed. I will commune with the spirits until you have completed the trial.”


	2. Pride in Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brina faces her spirit companion. However, her friend has grown attached to the physical world.
> 
> Update July 10, 2018: What was once two chapters have become five. I will mark these chapters accordingly. I encourage anyone who has read the two chapters before this date to reread the said updated chapters. The same course of events happens, but I've added descriptions, clarifications, and dialogue. Thank you for your patience and understanding.
> 
> Edit: July 23, 2018 - I discovered on the wikia the Avvar call darkspawn "nightgangers." Added instances of this word.

She climbed up a thin but well-worn path that twisted around the mountain. After hiking for an hour, she turned at the first marked tree she came across. She followed the markers to a thick veil of vines. The cover hid a clearing that butted against an overhang in the mountainside. It was empty except for an altar she had spent weeks building.

Brina laid her pack next to a tree. A gentle winter breeze rustled the leaves on the ground. The rising sun was quickly warming the air around her, forcing her to remove her outer coat, but she kept her sleeves pulled down over her arms. 

_Still, have to collect a sacrifice._ Brina adjusted the longbow in her hands and picked up several arrows. _Never was much of a tracker, but my aim is true._ Brina hoped there was still at least one animal still around. _Where could they have gone?_ She stalked the trees, careful not to break twigs and disturb the dead leaves.

She kept the sun to her right as she trekked through the forest. Movement caught her eye. Brina drew her arrow and held steady. Sunlight glinted off the red and white coat of a ram bobbing its curved horns as it rooted for mushrooms. She took a deep breath, aimed, and breathed out before releasing her arrow. It found its mark, and the ram dropped with nary a bleat.

It was a clean shot through the ribs, but the ram was still struggling to breathe. She said a quick prayer before using her dagger across the ram's throat. Brain pulled at the shaft of the arrow. The head came loose inside, but the shaft was undamaged. She tucked it and her extra bolts into her belt.

A twig snapped. Leaves rustled. Something massive moved in the bushes a few paces away. _Nightganger?_ Brina created a fireball in her hand, the heat radiated up her arm. A giant wolf bumbled out of the brush, sniffing about for berries. Brina scoffed, relieved, and blew out her fireball. _Grønvik._ The hold beast gruffed and ignored her.

Brina held her hands level with her waist, palms up, willing the ram into the air. She raised her hands, and the animal floated above the ground. Carefully, she guided it back toward the clearing and placed it on top of the altar. Grønvik followed, curious. He sat at the edge of the clearing, watching closing.

She skinned the ram, struggling with the weight when she turned the ram to its opposite side, but the skin came off in one piece. She scraped the inside of the hide before carefully rolling it up and setting it aside. Brina then removed the organs, draining the extra blood into a large bowl, then setting the organs aside. Last, she removed the horns.

She then began staking wood around the ram, building a pyre. She laid out the organs on top of the heap and spread small twigs and kindling on top of them.

Brina wiped her hands on her blood-stained hunting cloth before grabbing small bowls from her pack and the herbs she had bought earlier that day. She separated them. One container held the energizing plants, one the spirit resistance, and the third the lyrium fortification. Brina crushed the plants, squeezing water from the air until all three bowls held thick pastes. She then took some of the ram's blood and mixed it in.

She took two chunks of drakestone from her pack and set them on the ground nearby. Then she bared herself. The cold air raised goose-flesh across her body. She braided her hair back and began to spread each paste onto her body in various symbols honoring the gods and spirits.

“The Lady keeps the skies, where blows the mourning-wind.” She traced chevrons on her arms and legs and forehead in an olive green paste, leaving a tingling sensation behind. The wind began to pick up, blowing harder and faster. “Korth grants mountain shelter, protection from the screaming elements.” The sky began to darken as clouds covered the setting sun. Brina used more of the green and some of the indigo paste to trace triangles across her chest and stomach. The indigo paste felt colder than the wind that was howling through the trees. She shivered. Grønvik hid behind a bush. Brina raised her voice over the sound of the wind. “Hakkon blooded hide and bone, trading death for life, and life for death.” Using the indigo paste, she made stripes across her face, arms, legs, and back. Brina gasped when the cold air blasted around her. “Sigfrost wisdom giver, all-seeing and all-knowing.” She reached both hands in the last paste. It glowed orange like hot coals and was nearly as scorching to the touch. Brina smeared the batter around the edges of her face and into her hair, running it down her neck. She rubbed it into her joints and made lines and dashes that connected all the other shapes, joining them at the center of her chest. She stopped shivering as the heat warmed her against the cold wind.

She picked up the drakestone and struck them together, creating a spark. Brina had to knock them several times to get the spark to land just right in the kindling. Finally, the fire took, and quickly spread across the wood and twigs. She embraced the heat as the cold wind continued to rage around her. Brina tossed dried Nugsear into the flames. The fire crackled and sparked as the inside of the light turned blue and purple. Purple smoke blew in circles with the wind. Brina had to shout through the wind funnel that surrounded her and the altar. “Take this gift from Brina Ulriksdotten! I seek strength for the coming trial! Spirit! Knowledge! It is time!”

She circled her arms around, breathing in the smoke. The wind and smoke began to shrink and condense until an apparition appeared between Brina and the altar; a genderless body made of orange smoke that glowed like embers. Its beating heart lit up the body with every beat creating shapes like tree roots inside. The last light of the sun stretched through the trees, shining through Knowledge's body. Grønvik moved back into the clearing, hesitantly, but didn't leave.

“Brina. I am not ready to go back. I have felt enjoyment in this place. Much more than I anticipated I would.” Knowledge's voice was medium-toned and calming.

“I'm sorry, Knowledge. But you must. It is the way. If you stay, I'll be forced to leave. Exile.”

“Then we could see the world together.”

“Knowledge, your goal was to teach me and guide me. Your task is complete.”

“I know, but I had a new goal: to see the world.”

“I can't. I cannot stay connected with you.”

“You don't want me to leave.”

“. . . No. But you must. It is the way.”

“I will not leave. There is still much to learn. Out there.”

“No. It would be dangerous to keep you here. The longer you stay . . . the more difficult this becomes.”

Knowledge's voice hardened. “I could help you become more. I know you'd like that. The power.”

“No, you're wrong.”

“Am I? I know you much more intimately than you even know yourself. I know every part of your heart, your mind. I know every dark secret. I know the greed and jealousy you hold in your heart. All the pain. You blame yourself for your mother's death.” The spirit lost its beautiful orange color, turning black. Its beating heart quickened and glowed a dark purple. Grønvik grew agitated. He began pacing, uncertain of whether to run away or protect Brina.

Brina couldn't back down. “Stop it. You don't need to do this. The deal was to help me, and then you'd return. The Augur and other spirits said I was ready. Now you must be ready.”

Knowledge ignored her. “Your father blames you too. After all, she'd still be alive if you had listened. That spell was just too powerful for you.”

“Stop it.” Brina covered her ears.

“Your mother only tried to protect you, and how did you thank her? She had to go into the fire to save you. You were even able to keep your arm – and it still works properly. What did your mother get?”

“Shut it.”

“I could give you power.” Knowledge began to change. It grew taller until it was almost as tall as the trees. Its form grew scaled skin and a muzzle full of razor-sharp teeth. Black horns and claws as large as Brina's forearms sprouted from Knowledge. Its voice became low and gravely with a dryness even a desert would never know. “Despite all your anger, sorrow, envy, you're proud of who you are. You're proud of your power. Your clan treats you kindly, but they fear you. You're the most powerful shaman in decades. You could snap all their necks.” Knowledge laughed, “Just as easily as you snap your fingers.”

“No. I would never do that.”

“Not without me, you can't. You're too soft. Submit to me. Submit to me now, or I can take you by force. All I need is your body. I'll even let you watch. You'll get to experience everything with me; you won't be in control.”

Brina was horrified. “Who _are_ you?”

“I am Knowledge, no longer. You can't fight your Pride.”

Her breath trembled. _A demon._ “I- I corrupted you. I didn- I didn't mean to. You were my friend.”

“'Were'? I can still be your friend. Together we could rule Black Wolf Hold. Become a Jarl over all the holds!”

“No.” Brina raised her hands above her head, making circular motions. Dark clouds formed above, blotting out the stars. Lightning cracked. Grønvik ran off into the trees. She directed the lightning strikes at Pride. Pride roared in pain but threw its arms out. Its roars turned into laughs as it gathered the lightning into its claws, turning the lightning into a whip.

Brina crushed the clouds together, shooting boulders from the mountainside into them. With great effort, she brought her arms down. Molten rocks fell from the sky into the clearing, striking Pride and burning it. When she ran out of stones, she created new clouds, and drew cold air from the south, creating snow.

The wind blew around Pride. Pride, still beating out the flames, tried swatting at the snow as it gathered around it. With her palms down, Brina bent her fingers as if she were gripping stones and pushed her hand down again. The snow packed down, becoming solid ice. She raised her arms up, and the ice grew up around Pride.

Pride clawed at the ice, trying to chip it away. In its rage, it cracked its lightning whip. Brina tried to dodge, but the lash grazed her left hip, wrapping around her torso and legs. A shock coursed through her. She dropped to her knees, in pain. The snow stopped. The lightning dissipated, leaving long, crooked burns around her body. They resembled the same tree root shapes that had coursed Knowledge's body before.

Pride broke free of the ice, causing ice shards to fly in all directions. Brina tried to stand, but the pain made her fall again.

Pride laughed, “It's over Brina. You're mine to wear as I please. I shall see and experience life like never before.”

“Aye, it's over. For you.” She screamed when she stood. Brina brought both her hands up and shot shards of light – left, right, left, right. Each shard cut through Pride. She could feel it weakening. It dropped to a knee, struggling to stay upright. Brina walked toward Pride, putting more power into every jab. _Left, right, left, right, keep going. I've almost got it. Don't stop, Brina._

She stood in front of Pride. Even on its knee, it still towered above her. Brina raised her hand to its chest. Pride gave one last growl as she shot a beam of light through it. Pride disintegrated into ash. Brina dropped her arm, panting, before falling to the ground.


	3. No Time for Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brina's trial was a success, but tragedy mars her victory. Something is amiss in the hold.
> 
> Update July 10, 2018: What was once two chapters have become five. I will mark these chapters accordingly. I encourage anyone who has read the two chapters before this date to reread the said updated chapters. The same course of events happens, but I've added descriptions, clarifications, and dialogue. Thank you for your patience and understanding.
> 
> Edit: July 23, 2018 - I discovered on the wikia the Avvar call darkspawn "nightgangers." Added instances of this word.

The wind shifted, rustling the trees and disturbing nearby leaves. One leaf landed on Brina's face. She blew it off and attempted to sit up. Pain shot through her side, and she cried out in surprise. Memories of the battle flooded her mind. Brina lay back down, pushing her sorrow deep into the pit of her stomach. She covered her face, not daring to look at the beauty of the day.

Some time passed before she could get up. The sunlight was breaking over the treeline. She brushed off the dried paste, taking care around her fresh burns, and shook it from her hair. Some of the green paste remained in its bowl. Brina gently brushed it onto the wounds, breathing relief at the refreshing touch. There were just enough bandages in her pack to cover the worst of the injuries.

Brina dressed and braided her hair back before turning her attention to her pack. She stopped in front of the altar. All that remained were a few charred logs and bones. They looked so alike it was challenging to figure out which was which. A small amount of heat still radiated from the remnants, slightly smoking.

She wrapped the massive horns in a cloth before tucking them deep into the pack with the bowls. Brina tossed the bag over her shoulder and took one final look around the clearing. Some of the grass was blackened and smoked like the altar did. Rocks covered the entire clearing. A pile of ice remained. The demon had disappeared, back to the Fade. A light caught her eye, blue light in the grass near one of the sear marks. Brina knelt. _The lyrium? I- I did it without the lyrium! Realization of her accomplishment struck her in awe. Has that ever happened before?_ “I need to show Augur!” The vial still had the cord attached, so she slipped it over her head and tucked it into her tunic.

Brina ran as fast as she could down the rocky mountainside. The wind shifted again, bringing a foul smell in its wake that took Brina aback. She stopped and gagged before covering her nose and mouth with her arm.

As she drew closer to the hold, thick black smoke filled the air. _What's going on?_ Her heart pounded, bursting from her chest. Brina tore a shred of cloth from her tunic and tied it around her face over her mouth and nose. She secured the bag on her back and readied her bow with several more arrows in her hand.

At the head of the trail, Hulda's hut blazed furiously. A body was sitting upright on her knees with her arms covering her head. It was utterly charred and barely recognizable. Brina's breath caught in her throat once she realized it was Hulda. In horror, she looked in the other nearby huts, also in flames. A few more charred bodies lay around in various positions of fear or attempts at fleeing.

A screech in the distance startled Brina. Fear ran its icy fingers down her back. She hid just in time. A beast rushed past with great speed only to stop nearby where she hid. It appeared somewhat canine with a short muzzle, pointed ears, and long forearms. Its skin was mottled grey and black. The armor it wore was pieced together from several different sets and covered in what looked like black pitch. The gauntlets on its forearms had long sharp blades that pointed upward, and it held two daggers in each hand. It smelled of death and rotting earth.

 _Nightganger . . ._ The creature looked around, sniffing the air. _It can smell me._ Horror gripped at Brina. She covered her mouth and held her breath, hoping it couldn't hear her. The creature cocked its head toward the burning village, then dashed toward a group of figures far to the other side of the hold.

Brina stayed frozen for several hours, afraid to even cry. The fires were dying by the time she dared peak out of hiding. She trod carefully, afraid the creatures were still around. Every hut had burned, leaving empty black husks. All the plants had withered in death or thoroughly incinerated. Elderly, children, some of the women were charcoal around in their homes. All around her was the acrid smell of burning flesh coupled with the coppery scent of burnt blood. The unmistakable smell of sulfur clung to her nostrils. She found the warriors and hunters gathered near the center of the village, weapons in hand.

Brina found a trail of black blood and followed it. The path led to her hut, which had also burned. Leaning against the rock wall at the side of the shelter was her father. His veins were black, and his eyes and skin had gone white. A massive cut across his torso oozed black blood.

“Da!” She ran toward him, thinking he was dead.

He blinked, struggling to breathe. “C-Cub? Is that you?”

“It's me, Da.” She cupped her hands around his face. His skin was icy to the touch.

“I- I don't . . . have much longer . . . There's . . . a sickness . . . in me.”

“Shh. Don't speak.”

With great effort, he raised his hand to touch her cheek. “I'll . . . I'll give . . . Aela . . . your love.”

His hand began to drop, and she held it tight to her face. Her eyes filled with tears and she couldn't keep them back. Grief immobilized her.

By the time she could compose herself, it was nearing nightfall. Brina shut her father's eyes and tore herself away. She made her way back to the center of the village, attempting to contain fresh waves of grief and trying to figure out what to do.

_Where do I go? I could go to another hold. Would they take me in? I'm not sure where the nearest one is. They could be deep in the mountains._

Brina walked toward the Augur's hut, knowing it was futile. She was surprised to find his home untouched by flames. Several dozen of the creatures lay dead along the path, making it nearly impossible to pick her way through. At the top, the door stood wide open, and it was dark inside.

She took the torch from the door frame and lit it. “Augur?”

A voice rasped from the darkness. “Br- Brina? Is that . . . is that you?”

Brina found him on the other side of the dead hearth in a pool of his blood. A black dagger stuck out of his chest, and one of the creatures lay dead nearby. “No . . . no, not you too.”

“You . . . you succeeded . . . You are . . . separated . . . from your . . . spirit guide.”

Fresh tears welled in Brina's eyes. “Aye. It is done.”

“Good . . . Good. I knew . . . you could.”

“I- I want to help. How can I help you? Please, Augur. You're all I have left.”

“It is . . . Too late . . . for me. But . . . Not. . . Too late . . . for you. The . . . Grey Warden . . . He went to . . . The tunnel. Go . . . Go to him . . . Help him . . . and his Wardens.” The Augur gasped for breath and coughed up blood. “Take . . . this.” He pointed to the staff just beyond his reach.

Brina picked up the staff, staring in the glowing wolf eyes. “I . . . I can't leave you.”

Augur took her hand in his. “There . . . is nothing . . . for . . . you here. But . . . There is . . . One thing you . . . can do . . . for me.” He put her hand on his forehead.

She nodded. A tear dropped from her chin. Brina closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. A soft light glowed in her palm on his forehead. Her breath shook when she exhaled. When she opened her eyes, Augur had passed on. Brina clutched the front of his tunic to her face, sobbing.

She sensed a presence in the doorway. She turned quickly, lightning bolts circled her hands and forearms, ready to strike. Brina couldn't see who it was. “Gr- Grey Warden?” She turned her back to him. “I'm sorry. I had heard you were going to the tunnel.”

“Don't apologize, Brina. I am sorry for what happened here. What was it he asked for?”

“The Augur and his mate were apprentices together. She was supposed to become the Augur, but when the time came, Stone Bear Hold attacked. A hunting party had crossed onto Stone Bear's Territory. They had mistaken our hunters as a raiding party. The Thane at the time was known for being impulsive. Instead of finding out more, peacefully, he launched an attack. Augur's mate was killed.” Brina looked back at the Augur's frail body. “He always said her favorite place was near the lake. Back then, our hold was located near a huge one. There was a family of ptarmigans that lived in the brush near the shore. He said she always imaged the Lady was watching over them from the eyes of the ptarmigan.” Brina knelt by the Augur and picked up the feather that hung around his neck. “I gave him a memory. After my Ma died, he took me to the base of the mountain near an open field where the rams like to frequent. There was a family of ptarmigans he visited. He told me his story. The ptarmigan allowed him to come close and even let him hold the babies. It's how he remained close to her all those years.”

“I know you've lost much today. Your Augur and Thane observed your trial. As did I. Brina, will you join the Grey Wardens? We need you. We can't replace what you've lost, but we can help you start a new life with the possibility of a future beyond the darkspawn.”

“Those creatures . . .” She couldn't bring herself to use the word.

“Yes. Darkspawn.”

“They are responsible for this. Aye, I'll join you and your order. There's nothing left for me here.”

“Help me close the tunnel before we go.”

***

They picked their way through the dark at the base of the mountain. The dense forest around them pressed close, suffocating Brina. How the Grey Warden stood it, she couldn’t fathom. Brina could barely see the stars through the thick foliage. The forest belonged to Black-Wolf Hold and butted up to a valley to the east; the valley that would take them to the Korcari Wilds.

A fire raged in front of the tunnel where a single darkspawn sentry stood watch. It was quite tall, about as tall as Brina, with thick armor covered in pitch just like the darkspawn she had seen before. This one had a helmet on. There was a black shield nearby leaning against a tree and a black twisted sword tied to the darkspawn's hip.

“That is a Hurlock vanguard. It appears to be non-ranking, which is good for us. It'll be easy to take out.”

Brina couldn't see his face in the dark. “What are you not saying?”

“There's a small retinue not far from here. Closing the tunnel will likely gain their attention. Most of them are just like this vanguard, but I think they may have an emissary among them. They are heading this way. We won't be able to escape before they arrive. We'll have to fight our way through. This Hurlock can't detect us; we're not close enough. But it won't be long before the emissary is aware of our presence.”

“How can you know all that?”

“It's part of being a Grey Warden. I will explain later. Now, I'll distract the sentry. I need you to collapse the tunnel.”

Brina nodded. She and Duncan ran out. Duncan kicked the Hurlock square in the gut before it could draw its sword. Brina stood before the tunnel and braced herself. She held the staff parallel to the ground, both hands on the grip. She raised the staff over her head and arched her upper body around in a full circle before stamping the butt of the staff onto the ground. A large crack formed and traveled into the tunnel and spiraled around losing rocks and debris. The ground shook. Roars and screeches escaped the shaft as it collapsed.

Once the ground settled, Duncan came up next to her. He crossed his arms, but there was the faintest hint of a smile on his face, “I think you'll do just fine. The emissary is here. Get ready.”

Several Hurlocks, like the one Duncan killed, emerged from the trees. An even more massive creature followed behind. It was tall and floated above the ground. Its head was bald. The skin on the nightganger sagged and was pale grey with black mottled spots. Its ears reminded Brina of an elf, a detail that distracted Brina a moment too long.

“Brina, watch out!” Duncan shoved her to the side. A fireball larger than her head burned past her so close she felt the intense heat.

“The emissary?”

Duncan nodded.

The emissary opened its mouth, revealing two rows of sharp teeth, and let out a gravelly screech. It brought its hand up and connected its long fingers as if holding a ball. Lightning and energy formed inside and built up larger and larger.

“Brina, attack now!” Duncan rushed forward with his swords, spinning and lunging as hurlocks attacked.

Brina lifted her staff with both hands parallel to the ground and was about to conjure a protective barrier when a low growl to her left startled her. To her horror, another creature emerged. _Is that a wolf? No, it can't be. . ._ “Duncan?”

Before she knew it, a blade stuck from the middle of its head. She spun back to face Duncan who was fighting the emissary with a single sword. Brina ran to the wolf creature and grabbed the sword. She had to place her foot on its head and pull hard. After a moment, the sword slid out.

Brina ran behind the emissary and breathed deep. She laid the staff down and with her newly freed hand she gathered up the energy in the clearing. Electricity tingled in her fingers, down her arm, and into her other arm, directly into the sword. Electrical currents pulsed through the sword and the blade became sheathed in lightning.

“Hey! Ass Face! Aye, you! Eat this!” Brina brought the sword up over her head and brought it downward. A long blade of light and lightning came out of the sword slicing and electrocuting the emissary. Duncan jumped back just in time to avoid the slash of the sword.

The emissary stood, staring at her before falling apart into two pieces. Black blood formed a large pool in the dirt and grass. Brina picked up her staff turned her attention back to the bear creature. “Duncan, what is this? It looks like a wolf, but something is . . . horribly wrong.” She handed Duncan his sword.

“A blight wolf.”

Brina couldn't help making a face. “That- That's perverse!” Now that they had a moment she was able to look at it really and could see it was, in fact, a wolf, but it was twisted almost beyond recognition. The fur was matted and patchy, covered in the same pitch-like substance that was on the darkspawns' armor.

“I'm sorry, Brina. I had forgotten your clan holds them sacred. I can't imagine what you must feel about these blight wolves. Unfortunately, there is no way to cleanse them.”

“I . . . I understand. The hunters, they said the bears were gone . . . and all the other animals.”

“Yes. Either tainted or fled.” Duncan sighed heavily. “Stay alive. Another small group approaches.”

Several more darkspawn emerged from around the clearing led by an Alpha Hurlock. Brina took a deep breath and pulled her arms tight into her body. She threw both arms out, casting balls of fire. Each ball of flames sought one of the darkspawn enemies, catching them on fire. Some went into a panic, running into trees and each other before falling onto the ground screaming.

The Alpha regained his composure and launched himself at her. She swung the staff around, using it as a control for various blasts before sending another barrage of fireballs. The Alpha managed to block several of the bursts but was unable to advance closer. She dropped the staff, exhausted. The Alpha drew his sword.

A crash through the trees gave her, Duncan, and the Alpha pause. _Oh, Lady's Blessed Tits, I hope there aren't more._

Grønvik broke through the trees and tore into the Alpha. Duncan and Brina could only watch in helpless wonder. Grønvik crunched through the armor as the Alpha struggled. The Alpha finally stopped moving, and the wolf dropped it.

As Grønvik stepped away, he shook his head, growling.

“Grønvik? Are you all right?”

Grønvik howled and dropped to the ground. He tried to get up only to fall onto his side. Black blood dripped from his jaw.

“Grønvik? Grønvik? No! No, not Grønvik, too!”

“Brina . . .”

Brina ran to his side. “. . . Grønvik . . .”

“The Alpha's blood killed him . . . I'm sorry.”

“He- He saved me . . .”

“He was a magnificent beast.”

“He would have turned into a blight wolf. . . wouldn't he?”

“Yes . . . I know you are hurting, but it is better this way.”

She put her hand on Grønvik's head. “May you walk in the light and be unafraid of the darkness.” Brina stood and wiped her face with the back of her hand. “We shouldn't linger here.”


	4. Ostagar Welcomes You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brina arrives at Ostagar with Duncan and meets Warden Alistair and Senior Enchanter Wynne.
> 
> Update July 10, 2018: What was once two chapters have become five. I will mark these chapters accordingly. I encourage anyone who has read the two chapters before this date to reread the said updated chapters. The same course of events happens, but I've added descriptions, clarifications, and dialogue. Thank you for your patience and understanding.
> 
> Edit: July 23, 2018 - I discovered on the wikia the Avvar call darkspawn "nightgangers." Added instances of this word.

The noon sun burned down on the travelers. Brina's limbs were heavy with exhaustion. The darkspawn had been on their heels since they set foot in the Korcari Wilds. She was still reeling from the last encounter a mere hour earlier. What was usually a two-day trek only took them a little over a day.

The trees grew fewer as they entered a valley. As they stepped over the ridge, Brina drank in the sight. Before them at the edge of the forest was a crumbling white castle bustling with people. Many of them wore armor that glinted in the sunlight. A small group rode out to meet them.

 _Ostagar._ Brina wanted to run the rest of the way. A grin spread across her face.

She took a few steps and dropped to her knees. Sudden pain in her left side made her cry out.

“Brina?” Duncan knelt beside her.

“It- it's nothing.” She tried to stand but the pain shot through her again. Brina gasped.

“Warden Commander! What's the matter?” A soldier in blue and silverite rode up on a bay stallion. A griffin with open wings, just like the one on Duncan's armor, shone brightly on his breastplate.

“Alistair, take her to the infirmary.” Duncan pulled Brina's arm around his neck and lifted her to her feet.

“No, I'm fine,” Brina gasped through the pain.

“If you're fine, then I'm the Empress of Orlais,” the soldier named Alistair quipped. “Can you hold on?”

Brina nodded. “I think so.”

Duncan lifted her as Alistair pulled her up onto the back of the horse. Despite herself, she leaned into Alistair's back and put her arms around him. He was smaller than she was and she was concerned about crushing him. _I feel so weak all of a sudden._

“Don't fall off. I may not be able to lift you a second time.”

“Don't . . . Don't be . . . a bronto's ass.”

Alistair laughed, “I just wanted to see how lucid you were. The sisters will fix you up in no time.”

Each gallop aggravated the pain. It took all of Brina's willpower to keep from passing out. Before she knew it, hands were pulling her down from the horse and peeling back her clothing.

“What's wrong with her? The Blight?” a female voice asked.

“I don't believe so. We were riding out to meet her and Duncan when she collapsed. I'm sure the Warden Commander can fill you in better.”

“Thank you, Alistair. You should go now. We'll take care of her.”

More female voices joined in. “Look at these burns.”

“I've never seen anything like this before.”

“I have. Magic . . . from a _demon._ ”

Several voices gasped.

“Call the Senior Enchanter.”

Brina couldn't open her eyes. _I'm so tired . . . And the pain . . ._ The voices faded away.

***

Her head pounded, but the pain in her side was mostly gone. Brina's left side felt heavy. With her right hand, she felt around. _A poultice and bandages. No wonder it doesn't hurt so much._

Brina looked around the makeshift lean-to. Dried herbs and runes hung from the wooden support beam. The night was cold, but the fire in the hearth cast a warm glow. The heat radiating from the flames stayed inside the tent.

A voice near the fire startled her. “Well, now, nice to see you awake. You've taken quite a beating recently.” An older woman turned to face Brina. Her silver hair was in a tight ponytail. Crow's feet and laugh lines were prominent on her pale face. Her grey eyes were kind but wary. “I was told your name is Brina.”

“Aye.”

“My name is Wynne. I'm a Senior Enchanter from Kinloch Hold.”

“Wynne . . .”

“Yes. The Warden-Commander told me you're the only survivor of an Avvar Clan to the west of here and that you are a powerful mage fresh out of apprenticeship.”

Brina remained silent.

“You're fortunate to have survived an encounter with a Pride demon.”

“I'm not certain I should speak of my ritual with a _Lowlander_.”

“You don't have to. I understand you don't trust me. I certainly wouldn't trust me in your situation either. I was simply curious. We at the Circle are taught very differently about spirits.”

Brina was silent once more. She observed Wynne. Wynne had turned back to the fire. A cast iron kettle hung from a hook above the flames. After a moment, it whistled. Wynne removed it and poured its boiling contents into a simple cup with a spoon and stirred it. “Here, this will help keep the pain at bay.”

Brina sat up and took the offered cup. She could smell the unmistakable scent of willow bark _. . . And . . . Firebloom? To cover the taste of the willow bark, maybe._

Contrary to its name, the Firebloom was mildly flavored. It didn't cover the willow bark completely, but enough she was able to down it in one gulp before making an involuntary face. “Thank you.”

Wynne took the cup and set it down on a nearby table. “May I ask what happened to your arm? That scar was not caused by the demon you faced.”

Wynne reminded Brina of Hulda. She couldn't help but feel the need to tell Wynne what happened. “There was a fire . . . A year ago. I thought I could control it and put it out. My Ma died saving me.”

“I'm so sorry. It is difficult to lose family.”

“Da is gone, too, thanks to the darkspawn.”

They sat in silence for a while. After some time, Wynne sighed and stood. “I'll leave you be. I'm sure you don't want to talk to an old woman such as myself. I'll inform the Warden Commander you're awake. He wanted to speak to you.”

Aside from the crackling fire, very few sounds could be heard in the camp. Brina suspected most were asleep. Two voices approached, whispering. One sounded like Duncan, and the other was angry.

“A _demon_? Don't you know how risky this is?”

“Alistair, calm yourself. She is not possessed. I was informed she collapsed from exhaustion and pain from the burns, nothing more. It was a hard journey here.”

“What if she didn't kill it? What if it comes back and attacks the camp? What if it . . . What if it brings _friends_? There are very few Templars here.”

“Alistair, I would not have brought her here if I thought she posed any danger to the order. Do you not trust me?”

A tense silence followed. Alistair sighed. “Of course I trust you, Duncan.”

“Give her a chance to heal and prove herself. I think you'll be quite surprised at her abilities. I know you have difficulties trusting an unknown mage. She may not have trained in a Circle, but she is no true apostate. Her abilities and control rival some of the senior and first enchanters I've met, and I truly believe we are only seeing a glimpse of her potential. Don't let first impressions or secondary opinions cloud your judgment.”

“Yes, ser. I'm sorry. You're right. I will reserve judgment.”

_Oh, for the Lady's sake . . . It never ends._

Duncan rapped lightly on the tent frame. “Do you mind speaking with me, Brina?”

Brina gestured to Wynne's empty chair. Alistair stood back, looking sheepish. Brina sat up, leaning against a headboard attached to her cot. “What is it you need, Warden-Commander?”

“Please, just Duncan.”

“I'm sorry, it's how everyone here addresses you.”

“I know it. I've told them otherwise, but no one listens to me.” Duncan gave a small smile.

Brina chuckled.

“Your entrance was quite dramatic, and we were unable to introduce you properly. Since you are healing, I don't want to overwhelm you. We will start with Alistair. He's a junior member of the order and will accompany you and the other recruits when you take on your tasks for the Joining.”

Brina nodded at Alistair.

“I am pleased to meet you, Brina.”

“Even if I'm a shaman?”

Alistair's face turned red. “I- well, I . . . I mean- I'm just . . .”

“My people have a saying, 'The only thing that comes from a bronto's ass is shit.'”

Alistair was stunned for a moment, but let out a hearty laugh. “You do make a point!”

“Brina, tomorrow I want you to rest. We'll begin preparations for the Joining the day after. If you feel up to it, explore the camp and get to know some of your fellow comrades. Come, Alistair. Goodnight, Brina.”

Brina nodded. “Goodnight, Duncan. Alistair.”


	5. Comrades in Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brina is still recovering from her injuries, but she's interested in this new place. She leaves the infirmary to explore.
> 
> Update July 10, 2018: What was once two chapters have become five. I will mark these chapters accordingly. I encourage anyone who has read the two chapters before this date to reread the said updated chapters. The same course of events happens, but I've added descriptions, clarifications, and dialogue. Thank you for your patience and understanding.
> 
> Edit: July 23, 2018 - I discovered on the wikia the Avvar call darkspawn "nightgangers." Added instances of this word.

She didn't wake until mid-morning the next day. Brina stretched or tried to. Every move she made, her muscles resisted. Even breathing hurt. Bandages covered most of her torso and upper legs. Bruises covered the bit of skin she could see beyond the bandages. A few bruises covered her shins and forearms from a fall she had taken sometime during the escape and from defending herself. She couldn’t look at it much longer.

A young woman was nearby, tending a small fire. She wore a wool shift dyed orange. Gold threads formed a sunburst along the bottom hem and her collar. Her braided bun was tight and neat.

“Good morning, miss. How are you feeling today?”

Brina struggled to sit up. “Sore . . .”

“Would you like some tea?”

Brina nodded. “You must be . . . a . . . Sister?”

The woman smiled and handed Brina a cup. “Yes. I help tend the wounded.”

“Who's sister are you?”

“I'm not sure I understand.”

“You say you are a sister, but who's sister?”

“Oh! No,” the Sister laughed, “I did have a brother, once, but I'm not called a 'sister' because of him. It's a title in the Chantry. I have taken vows and dedicated my life to serving the Maker.”

Brina furrowed her brow. “Your Maker has a funny way of doing things.”

“You are from the Avvar, yes?”

“Aye.”

“We always hear such strange tales-”

“Sister Paulette!” A much older woman in red and white with a grand headdress and a stern look stood at the gate of the infirmary.

The Sister’s eyes widened.“I'm sorry, but I must go. I already changed your dressings. You are free to wander the camp. Try to take it easy. I'll change your bandages at supper.”

_Lowlanders and their Maker. What a strange world I've found myself in._

The pain was already beginning to fade away. Clean clothing was folded on the table and some crutches nearby. The clothes were simple and lightweight. She found she didn't need the shawl to keep warm as bandaged as she was. Brina glanced at the crutches. _Do I really need these? No, I’ll be fine._

She tried to take a step. Her legs were too weak, and she fell. Brina managed to catch herself on the table. _Maybe I took more of a beating than I thought._ She picked up the crutches and braced herself.

Brina took a few awkward steps. After walking a few rounds around the infirmary, she made a decision. 

At the exit, a guard stood watch. He wore silverite armor with the image of a flaming sword engraved on the breastplate. His helmet concealed all but his eyes. As she approached, he straightened and crossed his arms, blocking her.

She stopped, confused. “I, uh, was told I could explore the camp.”

“Nice try, _apostate_. You're not going anywhere.”

“Ah, my name is Brina Ulriksdotten. I arrived here with Duncan to join the Grey Wardens.”

“What kind of a name is 'Ulriksdotten'? If you are going to lie, at least try to make it believable.”

She squinted her eyes. “It's an Avvar name.”

“Maker's Breath, that's an even worse lie.”

Brina could feel anger rising. Her face felt hot, and a fire raged in her gut. “It's no lie. Go ask Warden Commander Duncan or Warden Alistair if you don't believe me.”

“I'm not going-”

“Wesley?” A female soldier with hair like flames and her face covered in freckles approached.

 _Oh, he’s got friends._ Brina hung her head and sighed. 

“Aveline, what are you doing here?”

“I just came to tell you I'm being sent into the Wilds. Scouting mission. We should be back tonight. What's going on?”

“This apostate was just trying to leave. She claims she's a new Grey Warden recruit.”

The woman smiled at her. “You're Brina? The Avvar?”

 _Obviously._ She didn’t think it wise to aggravate her rescuer. “Aye.”

The Templar shot an incredulous look at Aveline, “Is . . . she is the recruit?”

“Oh, Wesley. Yes, she's one of the recruits.”

“Why wasn't I informed? All I was told was there was an apostate here who had encountered a demon.”

“You arrived after she did. I'm not sure who told you that.”

Wesley's eyes narrowed. “ _Alistair._ I'm going to ring his neck.”

Brina sighed, “He really is a bronto's ass.”

The corner of Wesley’s mouth twisted up, but at least he didn’t look like he would throw her in chains now. “Hmph. Fine, carry on. Don't try anything funny.”

Aveline shook her head. The soldier and Templar carried on with their conversation as Brina brushed past as quickly as she could with her cane. _Oh, Mountain-Father. This will be an interesting experience._

Nearby, a woman in red and orange stood, preaching and praying. Soldiers sat on benches or knelt on the ground.

“Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls. From these emerald waters doth life begin anew. Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you. In my arms lies Eternity.”

A man standing near the back of the group noticed her. He had short brown hair, a trimmed beard, and receding hairline. “You're one of the other recruits, aren't you?” he said, motioning her over.

“Aye. Brina Ulriksdotten.”

“I'm Ser Jory, from Redcliffe.”

“Ser Jory.” She nodded. “Where's Redcliffe? My hold never traded with humans aside from other Avvar; mostly just dwarves and a few Dalish clans.”

“Redcliffe is north-northwest of here, near Lake Calenhad.”

“Ah, near Sigmund's Folly. I heard there was a village near there.”

“I've never heard of that place.”

“It's on the south side of the lake, aye? There's a cliff overlooking the lake . . .”

“Oh, yes! I know it! Right across from the castle on the east side.”

“That's the closest I ever was to a Lowlander village.”

“Why do your people call it Sigmund's Folly?”

“It's an old legend. One of the other holds wanted to attack the castle. Sigmund hailed from Red-Lion Hold. I don't recall most of the story, only that in the end, he attacked the castle alone by catapulting nugs over the wall from that cliff. He was shot full of arrows from behind. Thus, the cliff was named Sigmund's Folly, and he earned the legend-mark Sigmund the Porcupine posthumously.”

“Now that's a story they never told us. So the lesson was?”

“Never attack without a plan 'B.'”

Ser Jory laughed loudly.

“Sers! Do you mind? I am trying to conduct a sermon!” The priestess's face turned beet red. Brina could almost see the steam coming from her ears.

“Sorry, ma'am . . .” Ser Jory rubbed the back of his head and gestured at Brina. “I will have to talk with you later. I promised Alistair I'd meet at the sparring ring at a quarter to noon.”

“Of course.”

Ser Jory nodded and made his way around her. 

Every direction she looked, there were soldiers, Chantry sisters, Grey Wardens, and Templars. _It’s all so different. The armor, the food, the people._ Brina began noticing elves and dwarves, especially among the Grey Wardens. _Especially the people._ Every Templar she passed glared and narrowed their eyes at her. She stared hard back at each one. _They are as mistrustful as I am. What do they teach the shamans here to cause such hate?_

A squirrely voice caught her attention. “Ah, c'mon. I'm to be a Grey Warden, y'know? This is a dangerous place, and these are dangerous times. Never know when ya might meet death. So, what'd'ya say? Shall we have what could be our last tussle? Have some fun while we can?” A small, skinny bloke waggled his eyebrows at a tall, blonde female soldier.

The soldier gave a disgusted sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Can I take that as a maybe?” The man held out his hands and gave his best charismatic smile he could muster.

It wasn't enough. The soldier walked away.

“Well y'know where to find me tent!” His gaze landed on Brina. “Oh, well hello there. You are a lot of woman.”

Brina furrowed her brow. “I'm sorry?”

“Oh, I don't mean nothin' by it. I've just never seen someone who was both built and feminine. And so tall.”

Brina glanced down at the man who was barely even with her breasts.

“And I must say, I certainly have a great view.”

Brina raised one of her crutches, ready to clock him on the head.

“Wait, wait! I'm sorry! I'm just out of me element is all. Hang on, you're one of the other recruits, aren't ya? I shoulda realized it sooner. Me name's Daveth. I'm from Denerim.”

“. . . Brina.” They stood in awkward silence.

Just as Brina was about to excuse herself, Daveth cut in, “So you're one of the barbarians, right?”

“. . . Avvar.”

“Right . . . You never- ah . . .”

Brina raised her eyebrows. “. . . Never . . .?”

“Did your people ever attack any Fereldens?”

“Not for a long time that I know of.”

“Oh . . . good, good.”

“I'm sorry, I must be going.”

“Oh, yeah, o'course!” Daveth scurried away.

_Maybe I should just . . . Go sleep the rest of the day._

She turned back the way she’d come when a series of cages caught her eye. A man in hunting leathers stood near one pen. He had a worried expression. Curious, she made her way over. “Ho, there! What's going on here?”

The man didn't look at her. He continued to frown at the hound inside the cage. “I'm afraid the Mabari aren't doing too well.”

A whimper came from one of the hounds. The brown Mabari huddled into a ball in a small corner of his kennel. In the other cages, several other dogs appeared to be suffering. She wondered what could be wrong with them. They didn’t look hurt.

“Are they sick?”

“I'm afraid so.”

“What's wrong with them?” Brina stepped close to the kennel, peering inside. The hound gazed at her. _The poor thing has seen horrors._

“The Blight. This hound was part of a skirmish. Swallowed some darkspawn blood. His owner died.”

“Aye, I've seen it before.”

Jove gave her a strange look. “Then you know these hounds don't have long.”

“Is there anything that can be done?” _No creature should have to suffer such a fate._

“I think I might know how to help them. It won't cure them, not really, but they won't die so quickly or painfully. Are you going into the Korcari Wilds? I'm looking for a flower. It's somewhat rare in these parts, but I've heard they grow here. It's white. Large leaves and petals. The very center of it is red.”

“Oh! You mean Sigfrost's Eye? They were my Ma's favorite. There's a gully full of them near my clan, or there was.”

“I'm . . . Not familiar with that name. I've heard it called Andraste's Grace.”

Brina sighed. “Well, it sounds the same based on its description. I don't know if or when I'll be going into the Wilds though. If I get sent, I'll check in with you before I go. What's your name?”

“Jove, the Kennel Master. If I'm not around, just ask. Everyone here knows me. And you are?”

“Brina Ulriksdotten.”

“Ah, you're one of the recruits, then?”

“Aye. All right, Jove. I'll see what I can do. I won't be going anywhere until tomorrow at the earliest, though.”

“Wait, Brina, is it? Can you do me a quick favor?” Jove unlocked the gate to the mabari's kennel.

“Aye, if I can.”

“Can you put this muzzle on him? There's another treatment I want to try, but I can't get close without risking the taint myself. You're a Grey Warden, or will be soon. At most you'll have to worry about a couple of teeth marks.”

“What makes you think he'll trust me?”

“I dunno. I've got a good feeling about you.”

Brina took the muzzle from Jove's hands and stepped inside. The hound whimpered again. The beast growled when she came close. She held a hand out. The mabari sniffed it warily.

“I need to put this on you so your kennel master can help you.”

The mabari whined but let her put the muzzle on him.

“May you walk in light and be unafraid of the darkness.” She scratched behind the hound's ear.

Jove looked at her thoughtfully. “Let me know if you find it.”

Brina’s armpits were becoming sore from her crutches. _I should probably rest before I push it too far._ She glanced back at the Mabari. He had his head on his paws, looking up at her. When he met her gaze, he wagged his stubby tail slowly. “I’ll find it for you.”


	6. Tainted Wilds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brina, Alistair, Jory, and Daveth venture into the Korcari Wilds to face the unknown horrors within.
> 
> Update July 10, 2018: This is the start of new material from the update. Thank you for your patience.
> 
> Edit: July 23, 2018 - I discovered on the wikia the Avvar call darkspawn "nightgangers." Added instances of this word.

“Brina?”

She opened her eyes. Alistair stood in the tent opening. “Aye?”

“How are you feeling today?”

 _Like wyvern shit._ “Better. Wynne has been helping the wounds heal faster. This morning I was told I'm healed enough to do the Joining and any other tasks assigned of me.”

Alistair grinned. “Perfect. Duncan was hoping that would be the case. Are you ready?”

“Aye. I was just enjoying the quiet while I still could.”

“Good, let's go.” Alistair gestured for her to lead the way.

Brina glanced around in an exaggerated manner, holding out her hands.

Alistair raised an eyebrow, shrugged, and walked away. She followed him toward a massive fire centered in a circle of pillars just past the kennels. She stared in awe at the only one left unbroken, covered in intricate runes. _I've never seen carvings like that before._ She'd seen the pyre the previous day while out walking but had not observed the area in great detail.

Duncan stood by the fire with Ser Jory and Daveth, waiting for them. “Alistair. Brina. Good. How are you feeling?"

"Well enough.”

Jory rocked back on his heels but attempted to maintain a neutral facade. “I'm glad you are back on your feet. Have you been told anything of the Joining?”

“No, I have not.”

Daveth screwed up his face. “I haven't either.”

“Is- is that a . . . Skull? On your . . . staff?” Jory's surprise betrayed him.

 _These lowlanders are cowardly._ “It's just the skull of a red wolf.”

Daveth took a step back. “You-you're a mage!”

“I prefer 'shaman.'” She twirled her staff, amused that it caused the recruits to duck.

“You aren't part of the Circle, or you'd be wearing Circle robes,” Daveth squeaked. “That means you're an apostate!”

Brina sighed.

“She's not an apostate. It's true she did not study with the Circle, but she has received proper instruction among the Avvar,” Duncan interjected.

“You're not going to make no deals?” Daveth edged further away from her.

“Deals? What, with demons? I think you've smoked too much Nugsear.” _These lowlanders would kill Sigfrost Wisebear with such little intelligence._ “Why would I do such a thing?”

This time it was Alistair who screwed up his face. “Nugsear?”

“You know. Nugsear. It's the plant that's about this tall. It's pale green with triangle leaves. Looks like the ears of nugs.”

Daveth's face slowly lit up with realization. “Oh . . . Oh! Oh, we call that Elfroot.”

“Elf . . . Root? What does it have to do with elves?” _Maybe they just smoke it too much . . ._

Daveth rubbed the back of his head. “Uh . . . Well . . . I'm not- I'm not actually sure.” 

“Right then. Nugsear. Don't smoke it unless you've got nothing else to do.” Brina pounded the butt of her staff into the ground.

Duncan crossed his arms. “That's quite enough. We have two tasks ahead of us. You four are to go into the Wilds and collect three vials of darkspawn blood.”

“We could have done that on the way here. I think there's still some on my clothes from our journey here.” _I'm uncertain how I remain untainted._

“It's part of your trial. And we need it fresh.”

“Aye, of course. Well, if we're going to do blood magic or anything like that, it's best to use an enemy.”

“Blood magic?” Alistair took a step away from her. "Blood magic is expressly forbidden. The Grey Wardens do _not_ use blood magic!"

Brina held up her hands. “That's what it sounds like to me.”

“You want us to get blood from the darkspawn? That sounds . . . Foolish. As does blood magic.” Jory shifted again.

Daveth chuckled, “Scared Ser Knight?”

“No! It's just . . . Certainly, there's a safer way to get it. But . . . blood magic?”

“He said it was part of our trial.” _At this rate, we'll never leave._

“Right . . .” Jory tightened his sword belt.

Duncan sighed, “It's not blood magic. Not in the way you are thinking. The second task is to collect some documents from the old Warden base. Alistair knows where to look.”

_If these were so important, why leave them abandoned in the forest?_

“They are very old. A protective ward was put on them. They were then lost to us for several centuries. I don't know if they are actually there, but I ask that you look.” Duncan looked at each of them in turn. They all nodded in agreement.

“What are the documents of?” Jory inquired.

“Treaties. It'll help unite Ferelden together into an army to combat this Blight. The groups mentioned in the treaties are obligated to commit.”

“Well, let's do this.” Brina adjusted her grip on her staff.

Duncan gave a pointed look to Alistair. “Alistair, these are your charges. Come back safely.”

“Understood.”

***

Past the guarded gate was a broad open path. The hills on either side were steep, and the trees were old. Their thick trunks were twisted and gnarled. The companions walked in silence for a time.

Just as they lost sight of Ostagar, Brina stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Ser Jory glanced around nervously.

“I thought I heard something.”

“Darkspawn?”

“No, not darkspawn.” Alistair stopped next to Brina.

“How do you know? How do you know we’re not walking into an ambush?” Ser Jory kept his voice hushed.

“Don’t worry, Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn. That’s why I’m here. We’re not at risk of walking into the bulk of the horde.” Alistair continued scanning the trees. “There is something out there, though. Probably a bear.”

“You see, Ser Knight? We might die, but we’ll be warned about it first.” Daveth grinned, chuckled, and slapped Ser Jory’s back.

“That is . . . Reassuring?”

“Shh!” Brina held up her hand. _I know I heard it. Howling._

A twig snapped. On instinct, Brina held her arm up and pulled back, forgetting she was carrying a staff and not a bow. Halfway through the drawback she realized her error and wished for her bow. A beam of light appeared between her hands. _An arrow of light?_

The men stepped back, shocked.

“Whoa! I didn’t know magic could do that!” Ser Jory was both amazed and afraid.

“I didn’t know either! It was an accident.” Brina aimed where she had heard the snap. Two glowing eyes appeared in the brush followed by a low growl.

“A wolf.” Alistair drew his sword. “It may not bother us, just letting us know we’re trespassing.”

Another twig snapped and leaves rustled. More sets of eyes appeared.

 _One, two, three, four, five, six . . ._ “Seven wolves . . .”

Daveth let out a squeak. “I don’t think they’re gonna let us pass.” He drew his two short swords from his sides. Ser Jory also drew his great sword.

The leader of the pack stepped out. Jory and Daveth exclaimed in horror.

Daveth squeaked even higher. “What is that?”

Ser Jory's great sword visibly shook. “Alistair, what’s wrong with it?”

Brina answered, “It’s a blight wolf.”

“Try not to let them bite you. You may be Grey Wardens soon, but a bite like that is nasty. It'll slow you down. Be ready.” Alistair stood his ground and raised his shield up.

Brina aimed at the one pair of eyes in the bush. Ser Jory and Daveth moved to cover her back. The Alpha wolf charged at Alistair. The other wolves followed suit, dashing at Brina, Jory, and Daveth.

Alistair bashed the wolf with his shield. The wolf barked in surprised as the force of the blow threw it back. It snarled when it regained its feet.

Brina fired her arrow. It grazed the wolf’s haunches. _Shit, now it’s angry._ The wolf howled and stampeded toward her. Brina circled the staff around and brought the end down to the ground. Ice formed where the stave hit and slithered its way to the wolf, encasing it in ice from the paws up.

Ser Jory dodged one wolf’s lunge before bringing his sword down on the wolf’s back. The wolf yelped. Jory brought his sword down a second time, killing the wolf.

Daveth pulled a handful of crystallized sand out of a pouch at his hip. When a wolf got close, he threw the sand into its eyes. The wolf yipped and shook his head, pawing at its eyes. He slashed the wolf across the throat with one sword and brought the other down through the wolf's head.

Brina glanced around at the remaining wolves. _There's too many. I know, I'll take them out like I did the darkspawn! How did I do that, again?_ She slapped her hands together and threw her arms out. She released her anger and frustration out at fire blasts that burst from her chest. She directed them to the remaining wolves. Each found their mark, burning the wolves.

They went into a panic, but the fire only burned hotter. The men dropped their defenses as the wolves fell one by one.

“Now that is . . . Terrifying. Remind me to never get on your bad side.” Alistair sheathed his sword. “Let's keep moving. We still have darkspawn to find.” The path split off two directions. Alistair glanced down both ways, concentrating. A smile spread across his face. “To the right, there are a few. Shouldn’t be too hard for the likes of us.”


	7. Blood on the Trail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brina, Alistair, Ser Jory, and Daveth enter the Korcari Wilds
> 
> Edit: July 23, 2018 - I discovered on the wikia the Avvar call darkspawn "nightgangers." Added instances of this word.

“Oh, now that is just unnecessary.” Alistair gazed at a large fallen tree. The suspended tree acted as a natural bridge between two large rocky hills. Fallen soldiers swung down from the trunk and branches. The trail the company had been following passed underneath. Alistair shook his head. “Poor sods.”

“We should cut them down,” Ser Jory suggested.

“Aye.” Brina felt uneasy. “We should be quick. This is the first real sign of nightgangers we've encountered all day.”

"Nightgangers?" Alistair raised an eyebrow.

Brina sighed. "Darkspawn."

“Ah, True. There are some darkspawn close by.” Alistair led the way around the back of one hill, searching for a more accessible path. He stopped suddenly, looked back at the group and put a finger to his lips.

The others nodded, and they all quietly drew their weapons. They picked their way carefully to the top.

Alistair held up a hand, and they stopped. “Where are they?” He said to himself. “Cover me.” He pulled out a dagger and carefully made his way across the tree trunk. He sat, straddling the tree, and began cutting through the ropes. Brina, Daveth, and Jory glanced around them watching for signs of movement.

After the last body dropped, Alistair slowly made his way back. He stood quietly with his hand up, listening. He scanned the ground before glancing up at them, mouthing, “Get ready.”

For a moment, wind through the trees was the only sound Brina could hear. _What is that sound? A strange . . . Rumbling?_

Behind them, three darkspawn broke free from the ground. They were the size of dwarves. Two carried dual daggers, and the third had a bow. 

"Genlocks! Watch your backs!" Alistair spun to keep his back to his companions.

All three Genlocks disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.

 _Where'd they go? Wait . . . What is that?_ She caught a glimpse of something shimmering near Ser Jory. _There you are._

She threw a light shard. It flew inches from Ser Jory's chest. He jumped back in surprise. The shard pierced the darkspawn square between the eyes, and the darkspawn dropped to the ground.

Jory whipped his head back and forth between Brina and the dead darkspawn. “How did you see that?”

“They aren't completely invisible.”

“Look out!” Daveth threw a dagger, hitting another behind Alistair.

Alistair nodded in thanks. “The third Genlock is still around with a bow.”

“Watch this and cover me.” Brina circled her staff above her head. Within seconds, clouds full of snow appeared. The snowflakes blew around, sticking to everything in the vicinity.

“Wait, look, the snow is sticking to something there,” Jory said, pointing.

With some effort, Brina closed her other hand into a fist. Ice formed, encasing the Genlock. She wasn't fast enough. The Genlock released an arrow before being completely frozen. The bolt struck Brina's shoulder.

She cried out, dropping her staff.

“Brina! Are you all right?” Alistair sheathed his sword and dropped his shield.

Jory went to Brina, examining the entry and exit of the arrow. “It's deep.”

Brina gasped. “Did it go all the way through? I can't tell.”

“Not quite . . .” Daveth made a face.

“I can feel the tip of the point, right here.” Jory helped shift some of Brina’s outer layers. 

“Then we'll have to push it through.” Alistair knelt down in front of her, his eyes locked reassuringly with hers. “Are you ready?”

Brina took a deep breath and nodded.

Alistair gripped the arrow. “Hold her steady.”

Daveth held her uninjured arm and shoulder. Jory took her other arm and braced her back.

“Ready? One-” Alistair pushed the arrow a few inches.

Brina yelled out and grunted. “Bronto's ass . . .”

Alistair smirked. “You know it's easier that way.”

“Still . . . shit.”

“All right, let's break the head off, and we can pull it back through.”

Brina leaned forward. Jory supported her weight and held the arrow at the base where it protruded from her shoulder. She took a sharp breath when Alistair broke the head off. “Son of a nug.”

“Okay . . . Jory, Daveth, brace her again.” In one swift pull, the shaft was out. Brina let out a long groan. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Alistair put a hand on her other shoulder. “Can you move your arm, Brina?”

She wiggled and bent her fingers, turned her wrist and forearm. Her elbow took more effort to bend. “I can't move my shoulder . . . but I can move my elbow.”

“Should we go back?” Jory's face held concern. “We just have to get the blood from the darkspawn. Can't we come back for the treaties another day?”

“No. Just give me the tonic from my pack. And one of those bandages. No, not that. Aye, that.”

Jory handed her a small glass bottle. With her uninjured arm, she held the bottle and opened the stopper with her teeth. Brina downed its contents and shuddered. _I need to work on the taste._

She waved Jory back over. “Bandage. Hold that side. Cross it over. Aye.” They tied it tight around her shoulder under her armpit. “There's some extra for padding. Get as much in there as possible in the front and the back.”

With difficulty, she moved her injured arm and secured her elbow and tucked her forearm into her wide belt. “There's a larger cloth in there. Aye, that one. Help me tie it around.” Daveth and Jory worked to secure her arm. With her arm bandaged to her torso, she used her staff to stand back up. “My thanks. Don't worry; I still have my other arm and my staff. I can cast magic.”

Alistair eyed her for a moment before nodding his head. “All right. Now that we have dead darkspawn, we need to get blood. Do you all have your vials? Good. Well, go on!”

Daveth covered his mouth and nose. “Eugh! Smells awful! Like . . . rotting meat.” 

Alistair put his hands on his hips. “Well, what did you expect? Flowers?” 

“I dunno . . . I've just never been this close to one. Hideous things . . .”

Jory managed to get his vial half full before dropping it and running a few feet away. He fell to his knees and retched.

Brina felt sick as well. _It's so much worse this close._ Once her vial was full, she backed away quickly, relieved. Jory and Daveth took a little longer but managed to fill theirs as well.

“Next, we need to find the treaties. They are located at on old Grey Warden base about three miles south of Wildling Lake. The lake is about half a mile off that way. We just follow this trail, and we'll get there in no time.” Alistair led the way down the hill and back to the trail.

“What about our fallen comrades?” Jory pointed.

They all glanced back at the bodies on the ground.

“We'll send someone back for them when we get back. It's a hazard of the job, and it's too dangerous for us to stick around.” Alistair turned on his heel and marched down the trail. Reluctantly, the others followed.

The journey to the lake was quiet until Jory spoke up. “Alistair, what can you tell us about the Joining?” He sallied up next to Alistair.

“I can't tell you anything.”

“Can't? Or won't?” Brina cocked an eyebrow.

“Can't. Can. Not. It was a secret to me as well.”

Jory tossed up his hands. “Why is it a secret?” 

“Let's just say that all will be made clear later tonight as long as we can get the treaties and get back to the compound. Oh, look, the lake. We're here. Be on the lookout for a marked tree.”

“This is a lake?” Brina scoffed. Wildling Lake was little more than a mud puddle that took up less space than the infirmary did at Ostagar. “I'm surprised the sun hasn't dried it up. It hasn't rained or snowed in days.”

“You've been up in the mountains. It doesn't rain or snow down here very much. A little further west and you'll see six different rivers, all mountain run-off. This just happens to be a flooded area.”

“Flooded . . . if you can call it that.”

“Oh! There's the tree.” Daveth gestured toward a scraggly tree. Purple paint was smeared across the trunk.

“Great. Three miles south. You'll know it when you see it.” Alistair began down a path that broke off from the main trail. It was thinner and somewhat overgrown.

Brina happened to glance down and noticed a patch of white flowers with red centers. _Sigfrost's Eye!_ She bent to pick a few.

“What are you doing, Brina?” Jory stopped to watch her.

“The kennel master, Jove, wanted these.”

“Andraste's Grace?”

“Aye, that's what he called it. I know it as Sigfrost's Eye.”

“I heard the Mabari were sick, and he was looking for that as a cure,” Daveth piped in. “Maybe grab some extra. He told me he'd pay for it.”

Brina shrugged. “If it helps, it helps.”

“Come, let's get those treaties.” Alistair helped Brina up.

They walked in silence. The trees pressed around them. The branches became thick and twisted, and the air grew colder as they went deeper into the forest.

Brina looked around uneasily. “The forest is sick here.” 

“Yes. We're entering the heart of the Korcari Wilds. We must tread lightly. There are darkspawn afoot.” Alistair drew his sword and led them deeper into the darkness. Brina glanced at Jory, whose brow was deeply furrowed, and shrugged before following Alistair. Jory sighed deeply as he and Daveth stayed close behind her.


	8. Ruins and Rumination

Somewhere ahead in the darkness, a cry echoed. “Help! Help us!”

Brina stopped to listen. “Did you hear that?” The others stopped as well.

“Please! Somebody!”

“It's coming from that way. Let's go!” Alistair rushed headlong into the trees. Brina, Jory, and Daveth followed right on his heels.

The trees parted to reveal a clearing. Broken stones and columns laid scattered and vine-covered. A female soldier was kneeling next to another fallen soldier with a deep leg wound. “Who's that? Grey Wardens?”

Brina saw the kneeling soldier's red hair and freckled face. “Av-Aveline, aye?”

“Brina?”

Alistair gestured. “Brina, do you know this soldier?”

“Aye, well, somewhat. I met her briefly when I left the infirmary.”

Aveline glanced up at Alistair. “I'm Aveline Vallen. My husband is Wesley Vallen.”

Alistair's face lit up. “Ah, Wesley, one of the Templars! Yes, I know him. Fine soldier. I should have known. He's described you. What's happened here?”

“It was an ambush. We were scouting to plan for the coming battle; charged with monitoring the horde's movements. We didn't realize they were also watching us. We're the only two that escaped. His leg is badly injured. Normally, I could carry him back on my own, but my arm is injured as well. I heard your voices and took a chance.”

“I have more bandages and tonics in my pack. Daveth, can you help me?” Brina shook her pack from her shoulder. Daveth took it and opened it for her.

Aveline eyed Brina's arm. “I see you didn't escape unscathed either. You didn't have that wound the other day.”

“Lucky shot on their part. I didn't freeze the bastard fast enough.” Brina handed Alistair several large bandages and a poultice.

“Hold him down. If he wakes up, I don't want him thrashing around.” Alistair packed the wound on the fallen soldier's thigh. “It's a nasty cut but appears untainted. The mages back at the compound should be able to patch him up quickly. If he rests, he could probably still join the battle. Who is he?”

“He is a recruit out of Lothering. He and his older brother came on their own. Tired of waiting for the lords to come around, I think. Can't say I blame them. I don't remember the name . . . Some kind of bird. Eagle? Swan? Lark?”

“Hawke . . .” The soldier whispered. “Car-” The man broke out into a long coughing fit before wheezing “Carver. Hawke.” Alistair and Jory lifted him to a sitting position and handed him the tonic. Carver managed to choke it down and made a face. “This is awful.”

“Boy's still green around the ears, isn't he?” Jory glanced back at Aveline who merely nodded.

Daveth wrapped Aveline's arm.

Brina pulled two tonics from her pack. “These do not taste good, but they will dull the pain and aid healing.”

Aveline held up her hand. “I'll be fine. Just focus on the boy, here.”

“Can you get back on your own?” Alistair held out a hand, helping Aveline to her feet.

She gripped his forearm. “Yes, I think so. Now that he's conscious, he can lean on me for support. I don't think we have the strength to defend ourselves, however.”

“Don't worry; there are no darkspawn between here and Ostagar. Most have run off, back to the horde. We cleared out the last of the stragglers. There are some ahead of here, but we can handle them.”

Aveline nodded. “Thank you. May Andraste guide you. Come, Carver. I've no doubt your brother will want to know you're safe.”

Jory and Alistair lifted Carver to his feet, and Aveline put his arm around her neck.

Carver scoffed, “I'm sure he would. I'll never hear the end of it. Garrett's a bastard . . .”

Brina, Alistair, Jory, and Daveth followed them back to the trail and watched until they disappeared.

“Think they'll be all right?” Ser Jory asked.

“They should be. Come, there are darkspawn ahead. About . . . ten or so of them.” Alistair rubbed his temple. “We can handle it.”

“T-ten?” Daveth stuttered. “You can't be serious.”

Alistair glanced at him. “Ser Jory won the grand melee in Redcliffe. Brina fought off and defeated a Pride Demon. You've taken on six soldiers at once on your own. Trust me; we can handle them. Once we get closer, I can tell what exactly we're dealing with; then we'll formulate a plan. We'll have to move quickly though. They likely already know we're here.”

They continued to follow the trail. Before long, a large stone archway, similar to the ones at the Ostagar ruin, appeared ahead of them.

Alistair held up his hand. “There's at least three Genlocks . . . No, four . . . And. . . Three or four Hurlocks . . . And an Emissary. Brina, you and I will take out the Emissary. Jory, you take the Hurlocks. Daveth, you take the Genlocks. Brina and I will help both of you once the Emissary is gone. Brina, stay back as much as you can.”

Daveth gestured wildly. “I thought you said there were ten.”

“I said, 'about ten or so.' Close enough.” Alistair shrugged. “Why are you complaining? There's fewer than I originally thought.”

Jory shifted his weight. “Right. Let's get this over with. How far are we from the treaties?”

“They should be just past the archway on the other side. In a chest.”

They all looked where Alistair pointed. The archway they stopped at opened up to another clearing like the one they had found Carver and Aveline. This one was larger and more rectangular with columns and partial walls along the sides.

It was at this moment Brina noticed strange architecture. A giant bonfire burned in the center of the clearing. Around it was what appeared to be makeshift tents. The tents were low to the ground. At first, she thought the tent poles were wood, but upon further inspection, she realized some of them were bones. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the composition of the tent's black material.  


There were large chunks of meat spitted over the fire. A pile of armor laid nearby.

_ Are they . . . Eating them?  _ Brina felt queasy at the thought. She noticed Jory and Daveth also looked away.

“Where are they? The nightgangers?”

“They are waiting. They know we know. Some have moved behind us. We have to fight them now. Running is not an option.” Alistair gave a pointed look at all three of them in turn. “Daveth, the Genlocks are the ones behind us. Move fast. Jory, the Hurlocks are hiding behind the tents. Brina, the Emissary is waiting near the treaties. Let's go.”

Daveth pulled out powder from a different pouch than before. The dust glittered silver in the afternoon sun. He tossed it at the ground where it exploded in a puff of smoke. When the smoke dissipated, he was mostly gone. Only a faint shimmer of his image remained. Even so, Brina had to concentrate to see him. Alistair and Jory drew their swords.

“Come on out, you stinking cowards!” Alistair slammed the side of his sword into his shield repeatedly. The beats echoed through the courtyard. Two Hurlocks emerged from behind the tents, followed by a larger Hurlock. It wore thicker and heavier armor than the other two. “Jory, take out the vanguard first.”

Jory nodded and pointed his sword at the vanguard. “You're mine, scum.”

The vanguard growled before charging at Jory with the other Hurlocks close on its heels.

Brina could feel the magical energy emanating from the nearby clearing.  _ This Emissary is much more adroit than the one Duncan, and I faced. Was it really one week ago? Time moves fast these days. _

The wind picked up as they approached the smaller courtyard, drowning out the sounds of swords clashing against armor.

Static electricity began to build around them. Brina gathered some of the energy into herself.  _ Careful, Brina. Not too hasty. Let it follow your heart's wine. _

The Emissary emerged, also gathering electrical energy. The electricity swirled up its arms. The Emissary opened its maw into something resembling a sneer.

Just as Brina was about to release her energy, something caught her sense. Another energy. It felt different; hollow and cold. It pulled magic away from her.

Alistair held out his hand, parallel to the ground. Light swirled around him. “Move away from me.”

Brina took two steps. Then two more. Then ten more, until she could no longer feel the pull. She strained to hold the energy within her.

“Can you hold it?”

Her body was beginning to shake from the strain. “Aye, but not for long.”

A runed circle of light spun on the ground around Alistair. Another formed beneath the Emissary, also spinning slowly. The Emissary began to lose control of the electricity. Bolts of lightning lashed out.

“Hold! Hold! Hold!” Alistair's hand shook.

Lightning danced.

“Now, Brina!”

Brina threw her good arm into the air. The lightning traveled from the ground, straight through her, up, and out. It arced down, connecting with the Emissary.

Unable to defend itself, it screeched and dropped to its knees, shaking violently. The electricity coursed through the nightganger's body until the last of it disappeared into the ground.

The Emissary remained upright, smoking. Alistair took his sword and swung with all his strength. The Emissary's head rolled a few feet away.

Brina was stunned. Was that magic? No, it couldn't have been. His energy was nothing like the mages at Ostagar.

Alistair wiped his sword before sheathing it. “I don't hear fighting, and we're not being ambushed. Let's see how Ser Jory and Daveth are.”

“Wait, what was that?”

“What?”

“The light! That . . . that wasn't magic.”

“No. Oh, that's right, I bet you've never seen a Templar's abilities before.”

“You're a Templar?”

“Well, sort of. It's a long story. One better told back at the compound.”

Brina sighed. Jory and Daveth jogged up to meet them.

Jory sheathed his sword. “Genlocks and Hurlocks are both taken care of, Ser.”

Daveth rubbed the bridge of his nose, wincing. A bruise was forming. “So where do ya think these papers are, Ser Alistair?”

The four looked around.

Brina spotted the corner of a chest poking out beneath a pile of rubble. “There!”

“C'mon, let's clear this away.” Alistair gripped a large rock, lifting it up, and tossed it aside.

Jory and Daveth lifted a massive rock, moving it aside.

Brina raised her good arm, straining from the effort, lifting a thick beam.

Jory glanced at Alistair. “Bad news. It's crushed.”

Daveth blinked. “No papers.”

Brina knelt beside the chest, sifting through the splintered wood. A velvety, feminine voice startled the group. Daveth jumped as Alistair and Jory turned in surprise.

“Well, well, what have we here?” The voice mocked.

Brina turned to see a woman standing at the top of a small flight of stairs leading nowhere.  _ This woman holds powerful magic. She disguises it well, but I have no doubt she's much stronger than that Emissary. _

The woman wore little more than rags, though the cloth seemed to be draped quite intentionally in a manner that Brina's male companions clearly found distracting.

The woman descended the stairs. “So, tell me: a vulture? A scavenger picking away at the bones of a prey long since rotted away? Or be you an intruder into my woods? You've easily defeated the darkspawn; certainly, any other opponent would fall before you. What say you?”

Jory and Daveth rocked uneasily. Alistair glared, with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Brina held up her hand. “Wait. I am Brian Ulriksdotten O Black-Wolf Hold. We are neither scavenger nor intruder. Who are you?”

“I'm simply an observer. What interest do you have in a place the forest reclaimed so long ago?”

“We're Grey Wardens.”

Jory's eyes grew wide. “Don't talk to her!”

Alistair drew his sword. “She looks Chasind.”

Jory also drew his sword. “She's a Witch of the Wilds!”

Daveth covered his mouth. “I've heard tales. She'll turn us into toads and put us in a big pot; she will!”

The woman crossed her arms. “Hush. I will not turn you into a toad for simple ignorance. Though I am quite tempted. You, there. You've not voiced your own thoughts and opinions. Tell me, why are you here?”

Brina gestured at the broken chest. “We're here for the contents of the chest.”

“There now. Twas not so difficult. You may call me Morrigan.”

“She must have stolen them,” Alistair growled.

“I did no such thing. 'Twas in fact, my mother who removed them. For safekeeping.”

“Your _mother_? Let's just get out of here.” Alistair waved a hand before turning to walk away.

“Can you take us to her?” Brina sputtered.

“Now there is a sensible request.”

Alistair pointed to Morrigan with his sword. “No, Brina. She could be leading us into some kind of trap.”

“Do you want the treaties or not? Then let's go. Lead the way, Morrigan.”

Morrigan nodded and walked straight into the trees. Brina followed without looking to see if her companions followed.


	9. Man or Beast?

Brina was beginning to regret following Morrigan. The torches did little to protect them against the frigid air.  _ How long had it been? An hour? _

Jory and Daveth huffed periodically, evidence neither of them approved but followed out of obligation. Alistair glared in silence as he stewed in his irritation and anger.

Morrigan gestured to an opening in the trees. “Ah, here 'tis. Home.”  The waning moon shone clearly down on a misshapen hut in the middle of a small marsh. The sight of a few glowbugs buzzing above the water and a bullfrog's mating call was oddly welcoming to Brina.

Near the door of the hut blazed a cooking fire with a large kettle suspended above the flames. The unmistakable scent of roasted ram wafted toward the company. Brina gripped her stomach, suddenly aware of her hunger.

An old woman stood over the kettle, stirring. Brina was taken aback at the woman's appearance.  _ That bear fur she's wearing . . . For a moment, I thought she was Augur. _ This woman seemed even older than Augur had been. Her wrinkles and creases were deeper than Augur's were. Her body was thinner and frailer. Her joints even more pronounced.

Daveth whispered loudly, “I told ya they'd throw us in a big pot.”

Brina shrugged. “If the pot is warmer than this forest, I'll jump in first.”

Morrigan led them to the fire. “Hello, Mother.”

_ Morrigan seems so young to have a ma so old . . . _

The crone looked up, expressionless. Her gravelly voice was sharp and clear. “What's this? Visitors?”

Brina took a deep breath. “We were told you have the contents of the chest from the Grey Warden ruins, Wise One. Can we please have them back?”

The crone let out a hearty laugh. “Wise One? Now there's something I don't hear very often. Actually, I don't believe I have ever heard that. And such manners, from a Highlander no less.” The woman looked down her nose. “I would bet your companions first considered you a barbarian. Perhaps they still do.”

Alistair growled, “Another witch.”

“I-I think we should leave,” Jory sputtered.

Daveth hopped from foot to foot. “She reminds me of the witch from those stories. The Witch of the Wilds!”

“Some call me that. You may call me Flemeth.”

“Flemeth?  _ The _ Flemeth?” Alistair asked incredulously.

Flemeth shrugged. “It's a name. Does it matter?”

Alistair clenched his fist, stepping into the firelight. “Did you steal the documents, witch?”

Flemeth didn't flinch. She gave her hand a lazy wave. “I didn't steal them. Your precious wards wore off long ago. I took them and protected them until they could be reclaimed again.”

“You- Oh, you protected them?”

“Just as you have misjudged your powerful companion here, so you have misjudged me.”

_ What? Does she mean me?  _ Brina's stomach growled loudly. _ Oh . . . _

Flemeth smirked. “I imagine you're hungry after battling darkspawn all day.” A stack of bowls sat nearby. She picked them up and scooped stew into each of them before handing them to Brina and the others.

The men eyed and sniffed the stew suspiciously. Flemeth and Morrigan both began eating.

_ It does smell delicious.  _ Brina tipped the bowl to her lips. The salty broth tasted strongly of garlic and the gamey flavor of ram meat. The carrots were sweet and potatoes soft.

One by one, Jory, Daveth, and Alistair began eating as well. Relief spread across each face. They ate in silence until all the bowls sat empty.

Flemeth eyed Brina. “You are of the Avvar, are you not?”

“Aye.”

“I sense a great journey ahead of you, beyond what even you can comprehend at this time.” Flemeth stood and shuffled through the door of her hut. After a few minutes, she emerged with several scrolls in her arms. “Here are your treaties. Guard them carefully; they will be needed as the Blight encroaches ever closer.”

Morrigan crossed her arms. “All right, you have what you came for. Begone!”

“Morrigan, these are your guests.”

“Fine . . . I will show you out of the forest.”

Brina stood to follow Morrigan and hesitated. “Thank you, Flemeth.”

Flemeth's eyes flashed as she laid her hand on Brina's shoulder. “We will meet again . . . Grey Warden.”

***

The sight of torches and the guard at the gate sent an audible sigh through the group. They had followed Morrigan through the dark trees for a few hours in the cold. _ I was beginning to think I'd never see the sky again. _

The guard offered a salute when he saw them. “All quiet?”

Alistair saluted as well. “So far. Tell me, did a female soldier named Aveline and a wounded soldier named Carver make it back?”

“Er, I wasn't posted here when they came in, but I did hear about it. They're in the infirmary.”

“Thank you, soldier. Come, Brina must go to the infirmary as well.”

“Wait, I need to find the kennel master.” Brina glanced around, trying to remember where the cages were.

Alistair furrowed his brow. “What for?”

Daveth's face lit up, remembering. “Oh! The flowers for the dogs! Jove's this way.”

Alistair began to protest, but they didn't hear him. Brina and Daveth ran as fast as they could. They rounded a corner and saw Jove sitting next to a fire near the Mabari.

“Jove! Are these the flowers you needed?” Brina sat her pack on the ground and dug out Sigfrost's Eye. The white petals were bright in the firelight.

Jove's eyes grew wide, and a smile spread across his face. “Andraste's Grace! Yes! That's it! Hang on.” Jove rushed to a chest next to his tent. He pulled a mortar and pestle from the chest and set it in his lap. Jove gestured wildly. “Give it here, quickly.”

Jove snatched the flowers from Brina's hand and began to grind it down. He then dug out a cantine from the chest and poured water into the powder. He stirred it, poured in more water, and stirred it again, continuing until the powdered flower had disintegrated. Jove poured the remainder of the water into the bowl and held it out to Brina.

“What am I to do with this?”

Jove gestured toward the sick Mabari. “See if you can get him to drink it. If not, pour it on him and rub it into his skin. The back of his neck is a good spot. Drinking it is better. It'll be more effective that way.”

“Why me?”  _ Where is this poor creature’s owner? _

“I have a good feeling about you.”

Brina took the bowl. The Mabari lay with his head on his paws, looking up at her. She approached slowly. His stubby tail gave a weak wag.

“Do you know what this is, Mighty One?”

The Mabari whined.

“Will you drink some of it?”

The hound covered his muzzle with his paws.

“Come now. It's not that bad. Just a sip? I'll put the rest on your back. You'll heal much faster if you drink it, though.”

The Mabari glanced at her and whined again, but uncovered his face. Brina set the bowl in front of him. He sniffed at it. The hound shook his head. He smelled it again and snorted. Finally, he took a small lick and grunted.

“Oh, come on now. You can do better than that.”

The hound put his ears back and groaned. He took another tiny lick, shook his head, and turned his body, so he was facing away from her.

“Have it your way.” Brina took the bowl and began pouring the liquid on the Mabari's back and rubbed it down through his fur into his skin.

After a time, the Mabari's eyes closed and his body relaxed as he fell asleep.

Once all the medicine was gone, Brina stood and handed the bowl back to Jove.

Jove looked thoughtfully at the sleeping hound. “There's one last thing I'd like to ask of you.”

“What is it?”

“This hound's owner died a few days ago. Just before you arrived. You know that Mabari imprint on their owners and that's what helps form a bond. There's a battle coming. He won't be well enough to fight, but come back and find me afterward.”

Brina's brow furrowed. “Why?”

Jove shrugged. “He may be ready to imprint on you by then if you so desire.”

“You mean, I'd become his owner?”

Jove nodded.

Brina smiled, but then frowned. “Is that how it works?”

Jove took a deep breath. “It's different for every hound. I think this one has taken a liking to you already. All the other hounds who were sick perished. No one else was able to find the flowers. You've just saved his life. Should he see your prowess in battle, it might just be enough. Just come back after the battle and take another look.”

Brina smiled again. “All right, Jove. I'll come back.” She glanced back at the Mabari. His stubby tail gave a slight wiggle.

Daveth rubbed at one of his own ears. “So . . . I was told there'd be gold?”

Jove chuckled and untied a small pouch from his belt, and tossed it. Daveth caught the bag and sifted through it before smiling. With a nod, he went toward his tent.

Brina made her way to the infirmary. A non-Templar guard stood watch this time. The guard gave a small nod in acknowledgment but said nothing.

“Brina.”

She looked up and saw Alistair jogging toward her.

“Good work out there. I know you're tired so I won't keep you. Get your arm looked at. Senior Enchanter Wynne wants to examine it herself. In the morning you are to meet me by the large fire in the courtyard one hour before First Light.”

Brina nodded. “Did you find Aveline and Carver?”

“Yes. They are both resting. They will be fine.”

Brina nodded again. Alistair bowed slightly and made his way to the Grey Warden campsite. She went back to the tent she had stayed in before. Brina began the process of unwrapping her arm.

_ Hmm, it doesn't hurt . . . _

She got her elbow free and started unwrapping her shoulder. The blood-stained padding fell away, but her wound was gone. She looked at her shoulder, incredulous. Brina stretched her elbow and fingers. She rotated her shoulder. _ It's as if it never happened. How did- _

Then she remembered. Flemeth had put her hand on Brina's shoulder before they left. At the time she'd been so distracted to notice.  _ She healed me. She fed us. She protected the treaties. Who are you Flemeth? You can't possibly be the same one in the tales, can you? No, such a person would be . . . Beyond ancient by now. _

She shook her head, perplexed. A rap on the tent frame snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Brina, may I come in?”

“Aye, Wynne.”

“I heard you had an injury. You have a lot to do tomorrow, so I offered to heal you. Maybe speed up the process.”

“I had an injury . . . but it's already healed.”

“Already healed?”

“Aye, look.” Brina bared her shoulder. All that remained was a small scar in the front and back.

“Do you have healing magic?”

“No, we met a witch in the woods. She healed me.”

Wynne frowned. “I have so many questions, but I suspect you don't know the answers any more than I do. Well . . . I guess I'll take my leave. Unless there is anything you need? No? All right. Rest up. I'm sure the next time I see you, you'll be a proper Grey Warden.” Wynne smiled warmly and left.

Brina laid back in her cot and let sleep take her.


	10. Of Wardens and Darkspawn

The next morning came quickly, though Brina felt entirely rested.  _ I must have been tired. I fell asleep in my clothes.  _ Her fire had burned down to little more than glowing embers. Even with magic, they required some coaxing before the flames would take.

Sister Paulette approached. “I saw you were awake . . . There's some druffalo stew already warm if you're hungry.”

“Aye, thank you.” Brina followed Paulette to the central fire; the sister scooped the soup into a bowl and handed it to Brina.

She held it in her hands, appreciating the warmth. Her breath and steam from the broth created a thick fog around her head.

_ There's frost on the ground. Thus begins the dying time. _

“I heard you were . . . Successful? Are you a Grey Warden now?”

Brina shook her head. “That was a test. I'm to do something called 'the Joining' today. Some kind of ceremony, I suppose.”

Paulette nodded. “I see. You . . . All of you are so brave. I'm not a fighter, so I stay here . . .”

“Healers are important too.”

“Do you think so?”

“Of course I do. Not just anyone can be a healer.” Brina sipped at her broth, letting the warmth spread through her body.

“I guess now . . . I've never thought of it that way.”

They sat quietly for a time as they ate. Brina drained her bowl and stood. “Thank you for the stew, Sister. I must be on my way.”

Paulette smiled. Brina left the infirmary. This time, she knew where to go. She arrived early. The large bonfire crackled loudly. Various guards, Templars, Wardens, and even some of the Chantry folk periodically fed the fire. There was always someone close by, tending to the perpetual flame. Brina had an unexpected moment to breathe.

_ The Joining . . . What is it? Why keep it a secret? The only reason I can think of to keep a ritual secret would be if death were a risk. Am I going to die today? _

_ No, the Lady would not bring me this far just to call me back. I refuse to believe that. _

Brina looked up into the sky. The moon had long since set and clouds covered the stars. The blackness pressed heavily over the camp. Even the large bonfire could barely hold it back.

_ Sweet Lady of the Skies . . . I cannot let Da's passing be in vain. Or Augur's . . . Thane Snow-Eye, Hilda, Ragnar, Una, Bjorn, Dagmar, Stoic, Svena, and all the rest. _

_ I hope their souls made it to you . . . I'll return as soon as I can and give you the proper service you demand and give them rest. May they walk in light and never be afraid of the darkness. _

The black abyss around her seemed to pulse as if in reply. Alistair stepped through into the orange glow. “Are you ready, Brina?”

Brina nodded. Ser Jory and Daveth appeared as well.

“I don't like this . . .” Jory's breath was shaky. Whether from fear or cold, Brina was unsure.

“Whinging again, Ser Knight?” Daveth teased.

“It's just . . . Why is this Joining such a secret? Why so many tests? Haven't we proven ourselves?”

“Maybe they just want to mess with your 'ead.”

“All I know is I've got a wife heavy with child back in Highever. Why couldn't they have told me about this?”

“Would you have come if they told ya, Ser Knight? Maybe we'll die. Who cares if it stops the Blight?”

“You would not say so if you were expecting a child, rogue.”

Brina wrinkled her forehead. “Highever? I thought you said you were from Redcliffe. Where's Highever?”

“I am from Redcliffe. I got married one year ago. My wife is from Highever and works in the castle. I requested a transfer. Both Bann Guerrin and Teryn Cousland obliged. I was participating in the Grand Melee in Redcliffe when Duncan recruited me.”

“Methinks that Ser Knight is a scared little girl.”

“I-”

Brina sighed. “Shut it, both of you.”

“Yea, Ser Knight. You'll ruin the moment.”

Brina shot Daveth a glance. Daveth's face sucked inward as though he'd partaken of something sour.

Duncan appeared from the darkness. “Good, you're all here. I spoke with Alistair when you arrived last night and understand you were successful.”

Daveth hopped back and forth from foot to foot. “We were almost cooked up by some witches!”

“Yes, Alistair informed me of your encounter. You must understand that Grey Wardens are to remain neutral. Apostates in the Wilds are not your concern.” He looked at each of them in turn. “Alistair, taken them to the Old Temple. I will be there shortly.”

Duncan disappeared back into the dark. Alistair tossed his head in the opposite direction. Cold wind billowed around them as they made their way past the kennels; past the tents of higher authority. Guards stood watch all day and night around those tents.

They walked toward a grand archway. This area of Ostagar Castle was mostly intact. A grand staircase led up to the arch and into what was once the Great Hall. Parts of the tile peaked beneath the dirt and floral overgrowth. A pathway to the left had been worn down through the Hall to the very center where a long table sat covered in papers and maps.

To the right was a smaller set of steps leading to a raised level with a small room. Along the back wall was a long altar with a statue base. Whatever statue had once sat there was long gone. Brina suspected it had likely been a statue of Andraste.  _ Pff, Lowlanders. _

Duncan's approach startled them. “Now is the hour we come to the Joining. Those of you who survive will join our ranks.” Duncan held a large silver goblet in both hands. The cup had a griffin engraved on all sides along with an inscription. Brina was unable to read it.

“Survive?” Jory sputtered.

_ So it's true. Korth, protect me. _ “Let's get on with this.”

“Alistair, if you would say the words that have been said since the first.”

“Join us, Brothers and Sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day, we shall join you.”

“Daveth, step forward.”

Daveth gave a nervous hop but took the goblet in both hands. He screwed up his face, disgusted, before handing the cup back.

_ So far, so good. He seems fine. _

Daveth's face slowly turned purple.  _ Wait, he's not breathing. _

The rogue gagged and clawed at his throat, dropping to his knees. His eyes bulged, and he let out a croak before falling on his face.

Blood pumped loudly in Brina's ears.  _ That's so much worse than I anticipated.  _ She could hardly breathe.

Alistair didn't flinch, but his face did not hide his feelings.

Duncan took a deep breath, hiding his disappointment. “I'm sorry, Daveth. Your sacrifice will not be forgotten.”

Jory looked back and forth between Duncan, the goblet, and Daveth.

“Ser Jory, step forward.” Duncan held out the cup to him.

“No . . .” Jory stepped back. “No, I didn't sign up for this. There is no honor in killing myself.” Jory drew his sword. “I will not drink!”

Duncan handed the goblet to Alistair. Jory swung his sword wildly in fear as Duncan approached, repeating, “I will not drink!” over and over. Duncan walked straight up to Jory, drew a long dagger, and stabbed upward into Jory's stomach.

Brina's heart pounded.  _ The man truly has no fear. What is my fate? _

“I'm sorry, Ser Jory. Your sacrifice will not be forgotten.”

Jory dropped his sword, falling to his knees the same way Daveth did. He pulled the dagger from his gut in stunned silence. “My . . . Wife. . . and child . . .” He fell forward. The light left his eyes as the blood pooled around him.

Alistair handed the goblet back to Duncan. They both had solemn faces.

“Brina, step forward.”

Brina wanted to run, but she obeyed.  _ Drink . . . And die . . . Or resist . . . And be killed. _ Her hands shook as she took the cup. She could feel the magic swirling inside. The blackness of the taint made the magic feel different. It tugged and pulled, like a rabid animal attacking its prey. She willed herself to drink deep.

It was hot, as though the sun burned within her, connecting with her veins. She tasted the lyrium, almost like sweetened rosemary. Then everything went dark.

_ A fire burned; several fires, as far as the eye could see. The sun broke over the horizon, and she saw them. Thousands upon thousands of nightgangers. Darkspawn. They were all looking a single direction, past her. A voice spoke. The language was unfamiliar, but she understood it. _

_ “And thus the Grey Wardens add yet another to their ranks.” _

_ She turned. There at the head of the horde sat a dragon, larger than any creature she'd ever seen; nearly the size of Redcliffe Castle. Its skin was black and rotting though it was very much alive. _

_ “I have tasted the flesh of many. I look forward to tasting yours, Grey Warden.” The dragon laughed. At least, Brina thought it was laughing. The laugh rolled out across the camp almost like a growl. _

_ The dragon roared and screeched, and Brina knew. This was the Archdemon, the leader of the darkspawn. The Archdemon breathed flames at her. _

_ She screamed and covered her face. _

She opened her eyes as someone shook her. Brina was breathing fast and covered in sweat. Both Duncan and Alistair crouched over her.

Duncan held out his hand to help her up. “You are now a Grey Warden.”


	11. A Proper Grey Warden

“How do you feel?” Duncan’s face hovered over her own, his expression neutral. A small hint of relief reflected in his eyes.  
  
“Like I’ve been trampled by a Gurn . . . And that nightmare . . .”  
  
“What did you see?”  
  
“The horde . . . Thousands of nightgangers . . . And . . . And a huge dragon . . . The Archdemon.”  
  
Duncan nodded. “Now you understand how we know this is a Blight. I’ve arranged a meeting with King Cailan and General Loghain at mid-morning. I want you and Alistair present.”  
  
“Me? I’ve only been a Grey Warden for a few minutes.”  
  
“I can’t discuss it now, but there’s an important task you and Alistair are best equipped for.” Duncan turned on his heel and left.  
  
Brina glanced back at Jory and Daveth. At some point after she passed out, Alistair and Duncan had wrapped the bodies and draped blue flags with the Grey Warden’s silver griffon sigil over them both. Such a waste, but I understand now. Thank you, Korth, for delivering me from such a fate.  
  
Alistair sighed heavily. “Two more dead . . . At my Joining only one of us died, but it was . . . Horrible.” They stood in silence for a time.  
  
Brina couldn’t erase the images of their deaths from her mind. Without warning, her stomach growled loudly. Sudden hunger brought cramps to her stomach.  
  
“By-the-way, you’re going to be very hungry for a few hours. It was a surprise to me too.”  
  
Brina shot him a look of irritation. “Thanks . . .”  
  
A broad grin spread across Alistair’s face. “Don’t mention it!”  
  
“You could have warned me sooner.”  
  
“Where’s the fun in that?” Alistair unbuttoned a pouch on his belt and took out a slice of bread wrapped in cheesecloth. “Here, it’s not much, but it will get you between here and the breakfast fire at the Warden’s Camp.”  
  
The hunger prompted Brina to snatch the bread from his hand and devour it in two bites. After she swallowed the last mouthful, her eyes grew in embarrassment and horror. She covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what’s come over me.”  
  
Alistair laughed. “I told you! Go get some food. I’ll take care of everything here.”  
  
Brina nodded and went down the steps. She turned at the bottom. Alistair had knelt between both bodies with his head in one hand. This . . . This is only the beginning, isn’t it? Brina, what have you gotten yourself into?  
  
She followed the scent of food; eggs, sausages, flatbreads, various roasting meats and fish from the Wilds. Vegetables were somewhat scarce with winter so close at hand. As long as the battle was soon, what food remained would last the journey home, however far it might be. So long as they won.  
  
Brina found herself back at the infirmary. It had become familiar. Sister Paulette greeted her with a smile. “Good morning, Sister . . . Ah . . . May I have some of that?”  
  
Over the central fire were several pans. One had sliced sausages and scrambled eggs. Brina’s mouth watered and her stomach growled again.  
  
“Of course!”  
  
“My thanks.”  
  
Paulette handed Brina a full plate. She then went to a nearby table and sliced a chunk of bread and spread some butter on it. “Here. A shipment from Rainesfere came in just before you arrived. They haven’t sent soldiers, but at least they are helping . . .”  
  
Brina struggled with her food. She wanted to eat it in a single gulp, but she forced herself to eat slowly, one bite and a time. “What is your name, Sister?”  
  
Paulette’s face turned red. “I’m sorry, I never introduced myself! My name is Sister Paulette.”  
  
“Where are you from?”  
  
“Edgehall, originally. I lived in Honnleath for a time when I was little. Then my family moved to Denerim. It was there I joined the Chantry. Being the youngest of six with few prospects, it made the most sense. What about you? I know you’re Avvar . . . But that’s it.”  
  
Brina swallowed a particularly large bite. Her appetite was getting the better of her. “My hold is the- was . . . The Black Wolf Hold. I am called Brina Ulriksdotten, daughter of Ulrik Brynjolfsen. He was the Master of Hunt. Considered the best in our region even among the other holds. He was such an expert, the Thane depended on him during war times for organization. My Ma was Aela Caldansdotten O Stone Bear Hold.” Brina laughed to herself at the thought of a story she was once told. “You know, my Da was so good at hunting and tracking, he managed to sneak into Stone Bear, steal my Ma, and sneak out without even leaving footprints. What makes it even more impressive was the fact he had announced he would sneak in that night and challenged the Thane into doubling the guard and having them watch for him.”  
  
Paulette nearly dropped her cup. “He stole her? I don’t understand. That’s so . . . That’s so-”  
  
“Barbaric?” Brina raised her brows.  
  
Paulette blushed again. Brina laughed. “‘Ts all right. I know how it sounds. That’s how it’s done.” Brina paused and took a drink of water, noting that Paulette was listening very intently. “She was willing and even helped. The Thane of Stone Bear was so impressed that he pledged a blood oath to our hold . . . If only they had known we needed help . . .”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Do you know how Duncan recruited me?”  
  
“The Warden-Commander?”  
  
“He was visiting the hold when I underwent my ritual to become a shaman . . . The hold was attacked by nightgangers. Darkspawn. It happened so fast, during the night. No warning. No time to react. Too many for my hold to take.”  
  
Paulette's hands were over her mouth. “Oh . . . I- I had no idea . . . I'm s- . . . I'm so sorry, Brina.”  
  
Brina shook her head. “I will not rest until every last one of those bastards is dead. It may not bring back my hold, and I'm sure there are too many nightgangers for me to take alone, but I'm going to try.”  
  
“I . . . I think I would too . . . were I in your place.”  
  
Brina finished off her stew and bread. “Thank you again, Paulette. How are Carver and Aveline? The injured soldiers from yesterday?”  
  
“Aveline's fine. Senior Enchanter Wynne completely healed her. She'll go back to the main camp today. Carver-”  
  
A commotion broke out. A large man with messy jet black hair and blue eyes tried to force his way between the guards at the entrance. His armor bore no sigil. In fact, it appeared his armor was pieced from multiple sets and were ill-fitted for someone as burly as he was.  
  
“I need to see my brother! I need to see Carver!”  
  
“Ser, you cannot just barge in here! The patients here need rest to heal.”  
  
From across the infirmary, Wynne approached calmly. She placed a hand on one guard's shoulder and the other on Carver's brother's arm. The men stopped struggling.  
  
“Ma'am, are you in charge here? Please, how is Carver? I only just heard. When the soldiers didn't report back this morning, I thought he was dead! But he is here . . . I must see him. Please.”  
  
Wynne turned to the guards. “It's all right. Let him in. I will take him to his brother.”  
  
The guards released him. “Thank you. Where is he?”  
  
“This way. What is your name, Ser?”  
  
“Garrett. Garrett Hawke.”  
  
Wynne and Garrett approached a tent, where Brina assumed Carver was being kept.  
  
“What? What are you doing here?”  
  
That was Carver's voice, I think.  
  
“What do you mean, 'what am I doing here?' I thought you were dead and then found out you were here. I came to see if you were okay!”  
  
“I'm sure you did. You came to gloat because you came back from your scouting mission unscathed.”  
  
“Well . . . I- . . . No. All right, maybe. Did you at least get the bastard that did that?”  
  
“Do you really care?”  
  
“Yes. I need to know you aren't going to go on a revenge rampage.”  
  
“Yes, I got him.”  
  
“Good. You won't be able to participate in the main battle tomorrow.”  
  
“What? They said I'd be good to go!”  
  
“I say you're not.”  
  
“That's not fair! You're not Mother. You're not Father either!”  
  
“Carver . . .”  
  
“No! Say it. Say I'm going to be at the battle!”  
  
“I just don't think you're ready.”  
  
“I'm going. I don't care what you say.”  
  
“You-” Garrett cut himself off before growling. He was silent for a moment. “Fine, but you will be at my side the whole time. Mother can't know. Or Marian . . . Or Bethany for that matter. This is between you and me.”  
  
Brina couldn't see them, but Carver's voice dripped with sarcasm. “Yes, Mother.”  
  
Garrett sighed loudly. “How do you feel?”  
  
“Fine.”  
  
“I'll . . . I'll let you rest . . .” Garrett emerged from the tent, rubbing his face. Under his breath, as he passed Brina and Paulette, he muttered, “Fucking little shit. He's damn lucky I love 'im.”  
  
Brina glanced at Paulette. “Well . . . That answers that . . . I must be going.”  
  
“Oh! All right.”  
  
Brina made her way to the Grey Warden Camp to find Alistair. At the entrance, another guard stood watch. At first, he eyed her suspiciously but seemed to recognize her.  
  
“Warden Brina?”  
  
“Aye.”  
  
“A messenger was just sent to find you. Report to Warden Constable Amaya. She has some equipment for you.”  
  
“Where is she?”  
  
“Follow this row. Third on the right.”  
  
Brina followed the row and stopped at the third tent on the right. The flap was tied open. She bent to glance inside.  
  
“Well don't just stand there. Come on in.”  
  
“Oh!” She entered the tent but was unable to stand upright. The tent was too short for her. As her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit tent, Brina was surprised.  
  
Warden Constable Amaya was a dwarf. Her hair was shoulder length and mostly grey. Half of it was pulled back into a ponytail. What was surprising to Brina, was the fact that most female dwarves she had encountered kept a clean-shaven face. Amaya had thick mutton chops on her cheeks and a long braided goatee that was tucked into her belt.  
  
This dwarf was obviously a warrior. Her armor was made of thick plate. The few bits of visible leather and cloth were dyed blue, matching the Grey Warden sigil that decorated most of the tent's furnishings.  
  
Inside the tent sat a cot and a table covered in maps and messages. A gigantic, very thick two-handed hammer was propped against the bed. A large number of mugs laid about as well. It was then Brina realized the air smelled heavily of liquor. It was almost enough to make Brina feel warm and fuzzy.  
  
“So, I see you survived the Joining. Good thing, too. We lost every single recruit in the last three groups.” Amaya never once looked up at Brina; instead she was focused on one particular map in front of her. “Be prepared for nightmares until the sodding Archdemon is dead. Then get used to it. Drinking helps sometimes. Drowns it out.” Amaya looked at her. “Until then, you need better gear. You can keep your staff . . . Or whatever that is, but we have armor that will better protect you from melee and ranged attacks. And, as a Warden, you're expected to bear the sigil.” Amaya gestured at Brina, and they left the tent.  
  
Brina was relieved to stretch upright again. She blinked at the bright light.  
  
“Normally, I'd tell you that you'll be kept to the back, up high so you can strike at a distance, but the Warden-Commander told me he has a different job for you. So your gear has some modifications.”  
  
They walked all the way down the row and stopped in front of a blacksmith.  
  
“Hey! Jerome!”  
  
The man stopped hammering. “Yes, Warden Constable?”  
  
“Is the new recruit's shit done?”  
  
“Eh? Oh, yea. It's here. Just got it back from the Tranquil about ten minutes ago.” Blacksmith Jerome went to a chest and pulled out several armor pieces; several layers of chainmail and padded leather, a metal breastplate, bracers and shin guards, a set of rerebraces with griffon-shaped pauldrons, and cuisses. Lastly, she was handed a helmet with griffon wings adorning the sides.  
  
“Oh, Sweet Tyrrda's Tits . . . I've never worn anything like this before . . .”  
  
Warden Constable Amaya blinked at her. “That's right. I forgot you're a savage. Come, I'll take you to Warden Lorrel. She was one of the last recruits who survived before you. She's also a mage. She can show you how to put on your shit. This way. Thanks, Jerome.”  
  
Jerome grunted and resumed hammering. Brina followed Amaya two rows over and back up the direction they had come. They were about seven tents down from the entrance. Both flaps were tied back.  
  
“Hey! Lorrel! Help this new Warden.” Amaya turned on her heel and left.  
  
Brina stood looking back and forth between the tent and the dwarf.  
  
An elf appeared from the darkness. “She's a bit much, 'in't she?”  
  
“Ah, aye . . .”  
  
“Ya never worn armor before, have ya?”  
  
Brina shook her head.  
  
“A'ight, com'on. First, take off your outer layers, but keep your small clothes on . . . Trust me. Chaffs less . . . then put this on.” Lorrel tossed one of the chainmail layers at her.  
  
Brina noticed it had a soft cloth layer on the inside and had straps that went around her feet and hands to keep the sleeves and legs from riding up. Gaps on the inside of her elbow and knees for improved moving and comfort were also present. Brina noted the flap tied between her legs. And here I thought I'd have to worry about bathroom breaks.  
  
“Okay, now this layer.” Lorrel tossed another layer of chainmail. This draped over her like a tunic with straps at the sides. It went down to her knees. Lorrel threw the padded leather. It also hung like a tunic and was about the same length as the chainmail tunic. It was striped blue and white with a black belt around her waist.  
  
“I'll help ya with everything else. They're tricky the first couple times.” Lorrel slid the breastplate over Brina's head and tightened the straps. The bracers had leather gloves attached. Brina got them on, and Lorrel tightened the belts. The rerebraces and pauldrons were trickier, but soon they were strapped to her upper arms and shoulders as well.  
  
Brina slipped her boots on. The shin guards covered the front of her knees and part of the top of her foot with tiered plate. The cuisses attached to her belt. When it was all on, Lorrel helped her connect them together.  
  
“There now! A proper Grey Warden ya are!”  
  
“Thank you.” She glanced outside, and a realization hit. Brina's eyes grew wide. “Hakkon's balls, I'm late! I'm sorry, I must go. I need to get to a meeting. Thank you, again!” Brina ducked through the opening of the tent and dashed out of the camp back toward the old temple. On the way out, the guard at the entrance yelled after her. She didn't hear most of it, but managed to catch the words “Alistair” and “war meeting.” She waved behind her.


End file.
